Two and a half year ago I picked up the phone and called a friend. She kept me on that phone while she called my husband and I cried. I remember laying on my bed and hearing her voice telling me that it was going to be OK. That she loved me. I distinctly remember that, hearing her say she loved me. She helped me hold on while my husband drove home. She talked with me that entire time. She talked to my husband, told him what to do, who to call and where to take me. He listened. He talked to her on the way to the hospital, with me sitting next to him, just sobbing. And he talked to her on the way home, alone, after checking me into the psychiatric hospital.
She never ran away. In fact, she held me closer. This woman has held me, yelled at me, laughed with me, and loved me unconditionally. I've known her for 7 1/2 years. But she's been in my heart for over two years now. And I'm finally getting to say thank you.
Jen, this will never be enough. But it's as close to putting your name in lights as I can get. Thank you for watching my kids, for letting Violet 'hunt' Jimmy. Thank you for believing in me when I didn't know there was a 'me.' Thank you for loving me. I love you.
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