If I lose myself

Chapter 7. "They're just words.'' ✔️

"Comfort; a state of physical ease and freedom from pain and constraint, the easing or alleviation of a person's feelings of grief or distress, prosperity and the pleasant lifestyle that wealth and fortune affords.

Comfort really is such an interesting word when you stop and think about it, isn't it? It has so many different connotations, all personal to each individual person, but generalized so neatly by one all-encompassing term.

Comfort is a relatively vague concept. It's is not uniform in its practicalities.

What I find comfort, or comforting, or comfortable; another person may not.

To me, that is where the difficulty lies.

How do you offer comfort to someone when you no longer know what that is to them?

What if the way that you used to comfort someone you love, no longer works the way it used to?

What if it never will again? What do you do then?

I've never written about this before, so it might come as a surprise to you all, but the truth is that I am hopelessly and irrevocably in love with someone; someone who needs comforting now more than ever. Life is not treating them very kindly, a fact that I resent immensely because if there is anyone that deserves life to be generous to them, then it's her.

I find comfort in a lot of different things; places, music, books. However, for the longest time, she has been the biggest comfort to me and no-one will ever understand just how much I've depended on her and that comfort in the past. If we could only ever have one comfort in our life, then she'd be the only one that I'd ever want; that I'd ever need.

She is always the first place that I go to seek it. She still is; I hope that she always will be.

She is the person I go to when I'm having a bad day; when everything begins to get a little bit overwhelming. She is my refuge, my sanctuary. Every single thing about her is a comfort to me.

Her touch is a comfort; it alleviates all my physical aches and pains without even an ounce of effort. I have always been handled with care by her gentle hands, even when my own, thoughtless and impulsive, quick to damage and wound, used to betray me.

Her words are a comfort; she always knows exactly what to say to me, even if at times, that is nothing. Her reassurance, her support, her encouragement, and consolation, is largely responsible for where I am today. I would not be here without it.

She is where I am most comfortable; in her arms, I am content. I have yet to find another place where I feel so at ease.

She is a luxury that you can't buy; rarer than the world's most precious diamond, and more valuable than any material possession I could ever own in my entire life. Other people might measure their wealth in dollars and stock, in the number of properties or cars that they own, but I don't. I learned a long time ago that life is not a commodity. You cannot buy time, or health, or love. Those of you that truly appreciate the significance of that will understand what true wealth is.

It is the people in your life that are priceless. They're irreplaceable. They are what make us rich, and she is one of the many reasons that I consider myself to be exceptionally wealthy.

Soon she will likely lose a person that is as much of a comfort to her, as she herself is to me; someone extremely valuable to her, someone who she loves and treasures immensely.

So, the question I have is: what kind of comfort can you offer someone who is at risk of losing someone that they cherish so much? Does such a comfort even exist?