In Love is a Mixtape, the author talks about kindness. He says, "You lose a certain kind of innocence when you experience this type of kindness. You lose your right to be a jaded cynic. [...] People kept showing me unreasonable kindness, inexplicable kindness, indefensible kindness. People were kind when they knew that nobody would ever notice, much less praise them for it...I had no idea how to live up to that kindness."
It's a thought that has been coming back to me over and over again this past week. People have been just astonishingly kind. They have called and emailed and left comments and sent text messages and flowers and notes. People I know have told other people I know and they have sent emails and made phone calls. My friends have been amazing, as always, but even strangers have gone out of their way to console and reassure. I'm overwhelmed, my hands and pockets and corners are all overflowing with it.
I'm still feeling fifteen things at once, angry and sad and guilty, having trouble seeing the forest for all of these molehills. I go long stretches where I think I'm doing alright and then something switches back in my brain and I'm broken again. The loss of my long quiet hours has been hard because when I'm alone I think in the same unhealthy circles, and until now I've always loved being alone. And I feel like I'm not living up to all of the kindness I've been given, that I should be healing faster because so many people have been so nice to me. And that might be the most illogical thought of them all.
And really, all I mean to say is thank you, for your emails and positive thoughts, for being just plain nice. It means the world to me.
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