She cried last night. Not an “I’m angry and I want to make a point” cry. Not an “I want attention” cry. Not an “I want my way” cry. A real “I’m hurting” cry. The kind where you escape from everyone and bury under the bed covers and try to wish it all away. The kind where you quietly sniffle and the tears roll slowly down your face. The kind where you don’t want to talk with anyone. The kind you don’t want anyone to see.
It broke my heart. I wanted to fix it all for her. I wanted to make it all go away. I lay with her in her bed and rubbed her back. I encouraged her all she hard work and accomplishments. I told her how much I love her. I had to admit to myself that I can’t fix everything. I cried too.
