You told me, you weren’t looking to save me.

But I didn’t ask you to save me.

I know you’re not looking to be saved either.

At least, not by me. I’m not hero material. Not even to myself.

Most days, everything here is bright and warm. You say everything there is still and steady. But sometimes life can become unpredictable.

Over here, my skies become yellow and silent. I hear sirens going off in the distance.

In your world, the ground beneath your feet starts shaking.

When the heavens and the earth open, all any of us can do is seek shelter and wait for it to be over. 

My dear, I’m sorry. So sorry.

I think I should tell you, you are magnificent, strong and steadfast. Solid, tall and beautiful.

Like a cliff peak overlooking the ocean. A little rocky, sure, but oh how lovely you are. Quite picturesque, not perfect but no less remarkable. You say you’re broken and scarred, but I see you in a different light than you see yourself.

You claim you’re all jagged rock and sudden drop offs.

But I can tell you there are so many wonderful things about you.

You rise out of the depths of the vast ocean of your heavy despairing mind and you stand so tall, like a beacon, a marker for someone who is out at sea. Waves will break against you but, you never crumble completely.

Me, I’m more like a tree.
My roots are deep inside the ground here.

I’m scratched up bark and falling leaves.

I’ve had others hollow out my insides to make a home, only to abandon me when the weather turns cold.

I’m filled with holes, that have been burrowed into my flesh just to accommodate others. My leaves get plucked from my branches sometimes. But I do tend to change with each season. My bark has been stripped away, people have chopped me into pieces to provide them with warmth, the winds bend me this way and that whenever they please.

Neither of us are looking to be saved, that’s true. I’m not going to try to save you. And you can’t save me.

But we both could use a little conservation. It’s nice to have help if we need it. We aren’t in distress, but it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.

I can’t save you from that earthquake, we don’t have those here.

And you can’t save me from this tornado, you wouldn’t know how.

But when everything calms, and the clean up begins, I will call out for you, try to find you and make sure you’re still alive.

I won’t let you crumble if you can keep me well watered.

We weren’t made for each other, no. I can’t offer you love, or any sort of commitment, the only thing I have to give you, is at most a friend. If you need me, just know I’m here for you. Even if I can’t help you, I can at least observe as you help yourself. Just so you know you’re not alone.