I didn’t know how to talk about that. About how sad I was. About how bad I felt.
“You’re okay,” he murmured. “No. I’m not.” “I know.” He rubbed my back up and down. “It’s okay not to be okay.”
It’s frustrating to love someone and be unable to help them. It’s frustrating to repeat the same cycle of misunderstandings over and over again. It’s frustrating to constantly tell yourself that, if you could just figure out the secret, you could make everything better—but you can’t.
