Damage (bp coyle)

‘You shouldn’t waste your time on me,’ he told me in a whisper. ‘I’ve got too much damage. Too much history. Too many bad things. I’m broken beyond repair.’ And he flashed those tear filled doe eyes, gave me a sad smile.

Oh those words, those eyes. Those pitiful tears. That smile. It’s all one big rabbit hole and I have fallen down it so many times before. Thinking myself the healer. The easer of pain. The one who can fix anyone. For who can’t be mended by love and patience and a kind heart.

Yeah well, I guess I learned the hard way but at least I learned.

All of the love and patience in the world are never enough.

Never.

‘You shouldn’t waste your time on me,’ he told me in a whisper. ‘I’ve got too much damage. Too much history. Too many bad things. I’m broken beyond repair.’ And he flashed those tear filled doe eyes, gave me a sad smile.

‘O-kay,’ I told him. ‘You be sure to give me a call if you ever sort all of that out.’

‘I don’t have your number,’ he pointed out.

‘I know,’ I assured him. ‘I know.’

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay