Only Needed

Do you ever feel like you're just a person whom people come to in order to feel BETTER and then they just bail when they do?

Claire explained to me as if she already knew, like it wasn't so much of a question, anyway—just something which required some companionship.

They were parked outside her apartment in her car, not either of them making a move for the door. Rain pattered softly against the windshield, steady and light.

Oliver stared ahead, watching the blur of headlights passing through the mist.

“Yeah,” he said after a while. “Like you’re a PLACE, not a person. Somewhere temporary.”

Claire smiled, but it was the kind that hurt to look at.

“I don't think that people ever mean to do,” she said.

And then, occasionally, you are their solace. Their sanity. Their sanctuary. And when they've had what they were seeking, they remember that you are just a human being—with your own mess and they do NOT want to stay for the other part of it.

Oliver shook his head. He understood what she was telling him. The sort of pain which builds up NOT because you feel lonely, but because you're only seen when they needed you to see.

Claire moved in beside him.

“And the worst thing?” she breathed.

“You start thinking you're worth as long as you hurt for other people. Not the way you are when you're not needed by anyone.”

It rained harder. The two of them stood there.

And in the still space between them, something tender bloomed—

A shared comprehension.

A grief too near words to be put into words.