Hold. On.

I thought I’d lost a bit of myself yesterday. 

I felt the rip, sharp and unexpected, and then a nausea as my centre of gravity was thrown off course. 

At first,  it felt as though the tear was irreparable; and, as the ground shifted, I had that chilling sense that comes from recognising how fundamentally we are alone –

And. 

Then. 

As I shot my arms out to try and re-gain my balance, I discovered that there were hands waiting to hold me steady for a while and I realised that even though we are alone, really, we do not have to do it on our own. 

And so, for a while, I held on. Hold. On. And, whilst I inspected the damage – because there is no point in papering over these experiences – I clung onto the people who were keeping me standing and were waiting, although I had nearly forgotten, to help me back up should I fall –

I did not fall.

I listened, instead, as they stood in for my voice which was wavering and my self belief, which had taken a bit of a hit. I shared, and in the act of sharing, discovered that, whilst we experience things separately, the experience is often not ours alone –

And I realised how incredibly awesome and humbling friendships are. How we come together to hold each other up. How when we wobble, hands shoot out to keep us steady and, should we feel as though we are crumbling, friends help to piece us together again.