I was outside, pacing beneath the spanish moss trying to come down from one of my worst panic attacks. Tears were rolling down my cheeks without relent and I was wondering how the hell I was going to get on stage in two minutes and muster up that same old facade and smile. Breathing in wasn’t easy and it felt as if there was nothing left to breathe out. I could feel the redness in my cheeks and the heaviness in my chest. The stress of everything was finally surrounding me.
I closed my eyes and whispered a silent prayer. God answered. You stood at the door and there was no look of pity on your face, only one of hope. I crashed into you, still shaking, and instantly I felt better. You held on tight as if we’d done this a million times before, but we hadn’t. You’d never seen me cry, much less panic. I’m not a pretty crier and I apologized for that, but you just laughed. I smiled up at you and tried to wipe my tears off your jacket. “It’s okay,” you told me and I explained everything to you in broken scentences.
We stood there for a moment as you let me collect myself. A minute or so later, we were back inside and I was on stage, yelling with faux excitement. I watched you the whole time. I held on to your gaze because there was strength there. So, thank you for not running like so many people have. Thank you for continuing to gracefully protect me and always being willing to share a hug. You’re such an amazing human.