Friday Night Therapy in And The Rest.

Friday night, drunk and messy, smudged around the edges by vodka, Jaeger, amaretto, who knows what else, I can’t remember. Sweaty makeup, glassy eyes, hair unruly curls from too much energetic dancing, the music is amazing.

Underage girl with smudged panda eyes, sprawled outside on the pavement, curled up on herself, crying heaving sobs, crying like her heart is breaking. Crying that she wants to die.

People picking their way over her like she’s a stain on the pavement. Crouch down beside her in my platform boots, ask her if she needs a friend. Let her talk, let her cry, I hold her as though I could hold her together, rub her back in gentle circles, tell her nothing’s worth her life.

Almost two hours later, shaky on her feet, she’s agreeing with me, a watery smile, we fix her face and dance to the last song and she smiles. I make sure someone will be there when she gets home, put her in a taxi, go back to find my friends.

A stranger, but I made some kind of difference, if only for one night. But why, why do I value the life of a stranger, persuade her to choose life.... when I still plan to take my own?

If only I could talk as well as I listen

could it save me too?