All you want to do is shelve their hurt and take it away, and wish away all their grieving and discomfort. You want to jump on a plane, snap your fingers and appear at their door so that you can just hold them, but you know you can’t do that and so you just sit and wait, wanting to give them time and space, but also wanting to smother them with affection and everything that you think (wish) would act as a band-aid for their wounds.
But you’re here, and they’re there, and the distance that separates you are aches in your side as you try and ease their pain in little ways because little ways are all you have. Little ways will never be enough. You know their pain isn’t your pain and that their pain isn’t about you, but you realize you love someone – really love someone – when you hurt because they hurt.
New York Fruit Stand 