Leama na yonollna (You are so alone

day I niidatana h’aart… and I mourn for you without cease…

hh’tai, hh’tai, hh’tai![1]

I ladaya, My love,

linaana kaaresa’ih tempa leama hihyo? Is anyone able to save you now?)

Do you think it was easy for me? To sit there, quiet and calm, and listen to you? To listen to you scream and hear more than anyone else in the room that visceral tearing of your voice into jagged splinters and to know what it meant? To feel your pain?

It hurt me so badly, so badly. I would not let myself react, though in truth I wanted to stand up and scream back at you; I wanted to stand up and start shouting at you, “Shut up! Hh’tai! Enough! You have your pain, now let it go! Stop! Stop tormenting yourself!”

Maybe it was selfish of me to think that way.

What’s wrong with you, love? What’s wrong? I thought once that if only you’d vent your rage and tears you would exorcize your own demons and you’d be alright.

I thought if you could just see that someone had the patience and love to weather all the beatings you dish out you’d see that your bitterness is a hindrance to you, and unnecessary.

You are not angry with me. You may yell at me; be cruel, crude, or coarse to me; you may threaten my life; but I know that you are never really angry with me. You are angry with all those other people and times that have hurt you, but you take it all out on me, now, because I am here and because you know that I am strong enough to handle the abuse, and that to me it becomes harmless.

I’ll be your buffer for now, if that is what you need. I do not mind, and I know that you will eventually tire yourself out. You cannot keep this up forever. Eventually, you will stop snapping sarcastically, stop shouting, stop screaming, stop mourning and crying… you will dry your eyes and maybe you will smile. A real smile, like you mean it, like you feel it. I know that you are capable of this.

I give you everything I have to give every moment, and sometimes even more than that. I know that you have seen this. However, I often think that it is not enough. I wish I had more, that I might sacrifice it willingly, gladly, gratefully! –if only it would help you.

I hate seeing you in pain, crying like a puppy caught in a rabbit-snare, and I despise the farmer who laid the wire. Why do people always want to destroy things?

I am a simple Wolf. It is instinct for me to act like this, to ruffle up my fur, and walk stiff-legged and ill-tempered around you as you struggle against the trap, snarling and baring at my teeth at any strange noises. It is my nature to lick your wounds and lay against your side, breathing comforting hot air into your ears.

And have I not done just that?

It hasn’t seemed to helped much though.

Others don’t understand me. They don’t understand why I look at you with compassion in my eyes; they don’t understand why I don’t kick you a few times, seeing as you’re already down.

Fools! I snarl at them too, when they come too near. They are so blinded to my efforts and to my purpose! They do not understand why I’d waste my time saving you from the hell you seem so insistent upon staying in. They have no pity for the vulnerable, and no eye for beauty. They do not understand that one so wounded and trapped as you will lash out at anyone, lacking understanding of gentleness and mercy, and feeling nothing but pain.

At least they have respect for my ruthless temper and vicious fangs.

Lie quiet now, love; be silent for a while. It hurts me to hear you speak. Sometimes, it hurts me to answer you, but your tone and that look in your eyes always demands a reply.

Just stay still, please?

“Goodnight, my angel
Time to close your eyes
And save these questions for another day
I think I know what you've been asking me
I think you know what I've been trying to say”

-- Billy Joel, Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel)

---

[1] Hh’tai—a noise spoke by someone in pain: conversely, a word spoken by someone who sees someone else in pain and empathizes; a noise of comforting.