Helicopters and rain tears.

I didn't know it was possible to feel that much pain, to cry as hard as the rain was pouring, to feel so completely alone, isolated, small, and utterly beaten down.  Driving with nothing but the sound of tires through puddles on the highway to break the silence of my sobs.  Searching for safety, with nothing but an oversized hoodie to sleep in that night, crawling into unfamiliarity while clutching my puppy and a warm tea.

It's exactly like what she said to me though. I'm waiting for my helicopter.   When you break your leg on the top of a mountain in the snow, it's not up to you to figure out a way to get off the mountain. How to get onto the snowmobile, get down the mountain, get medical care, and get your leg fixed.  It's not up to you to heal your leg in speedy time. That analogy somehow brought me peace, knowing that all I had to do was breathe, rest in this pain, and wait.  Wait for my helicopter ride, whatever that may be, and whenever that may be.

I know there are lessons to be had here.  And I know there are things I'm already learning, discovering, and embracing about myself.  I yearn for the day when this becomes a distant memory and I can have the healing that I know I deserve, because I never deserved the pain in the first place.

If I can come out stronger for it, better for it, and somehow find closure in it, I would be happy.  I know that day will come, and as hard as it is to acknowledge the fact that day is not today, I know it will.