My Endless Personal Pronouns


She came up to me and explained how desperately she needed a vacation.  Been working for weeks straight, late into the night and early in the morning.  She explained how stressed she was and how it was affecting their relationship; they never had time to talk anymore.  She sent me brochures to the hotel they were planning on visiting in the next couple of weeks.

He texted me and asked how to keep someone away from his family.  Explained how stressful the harassment was and how it’s affecting his work, his home life and his ability to live without the thought of authorities rapping on the door.

She emailed me with the confession that she’s been destroying her life.  Just needs to feel the pain and wonders if God could ever forgive her doing this to herself.  I assured her that he’d love her no matter what she did.

He explained how she ended up in the hospital; the car she was using to try to run him over with eventually hit a tree in the front yard, totaling the car while deploying the airbag and breaking her arm. This married couple, stood there together explaining the logistics of this and I wonder what parts were left out.

She needed help in understanding why her boss was targeting her for dismissal.  She explained that she’d only done as he suggested.  Could I help her find the words to defend herself?  I helped her find the words, but she’s gone now.  I’m told she chose to leave on her own for a new job.  The facts don’t align on this one either and I’m left to figure it out.

He was explaining about the wonderful church service he’d attended; I was confused by the following discussion about the “hottie” in the praise band and how he’d like a piece of that action.

She explained that she just doesn’t understand him even though they’ve lived together for so long and have a commitment to each other.  I think she fears he may leave her so I asked if he’d finally divorced his current wife.  She explained that the topic of his current marriage was really none of her business.

I explained that she beats herself into a disheveled mess and that we hold her down for hours on end to minimize the damage.  I talk of the late nights of screaming and the difficult mornings in which we need to prep her for her day.  Try as I might, there’s no way I can convey the horror of a seizure, the disappointment of broken dreams or the beauty in drool found on my shirt sleeve.  We’ve been doing this day after day, night after night for better than 15 years with little hope in sight of an ending.  We do nothing together.  School functions, church functions, family gatherings typically take great coordination and have a time clock attached to them.

They share the relative pain of their lives and I continue to listen to them and I honestly feel for them.  Often times, I appear to be a compassionate listener but the cold reality of it is; in my mind I’m trying for all I’m worth, to make a connection.  Can their endless challenges be greater than mine?  When they say, “there’s no end in sight” do they really mean “no end”, like my “no end”?  My “no end” comes only by death, somebody’s gotta’ fall; it’s the only sure release. 

Their stories seem to be a condition in a period of time; mine seems to be a period of time in a condition.  Perhaps that’s why I’ve learned to laugh in the middle of it all.  I’ve had more time to see the absurdity in my own wants and needs!

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