Safe people

Come here, let me hug youWith age you get used to a rather narrow circle of people who are considered his flock.With someone you're bound by threads of shared memory, the passing of the roads, fallen baby teeth. With the other — to know each other's handwriting, on the Desk, curved stroke in the notebook in the box where the fields under the line and dreams of a blueprint, and it will take a lot of time before it will blow up in different directions, but you will still be who they were — alive, funny, gentle, unreasonably happy, unconditionally loved, unarmed, clean.

The third met recently, already over thirty, over forty, but immediately, thoroughly and precisely: similar scars, experience, views on life, goals and willingness to help.

These relationships and these people appreciate and cherish not the volume name and the number of pages in search results, and a strong knowledge that they do not need to lie. To adapt to their idea of you, afraid to fall, not to endure — that come off us, will Shine on the heat nose, eating lipstick is not smeared on the lower eyelid mascara, for God's sake.

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I am always very clearly distinguish between whom to be with work, cakes and books, and to whom to turn themselves inside out, for someone to crawl with all her tuft of wool, ask regret. Very feel for who you're static happy and strong (very rarely have something in common with the real you), and who is ready to take you in sorrow and in joy, in balance and in the sweetness and unbearable lightness — and the unspeakable gravity of existence.

It's a safe people. People who know the value of trust and pain, silence and action, words and deeds appropriate to the moment. People, the thought of which becomes a chore in advance from a known reaction, for years, played as the notes: to chuckle, to grimace, to go into the notation roll his eyes. So, from the last, it is easier to say than to explain, forced his way through the accusations, through the rosary, constantly stopping to take a breath, don't freak out from the irritation to dig out spikes.

You only live once, and once you no longer needed to have someone constantly telling you what you're doing wrong — even from the most sincere motives. Such "kindness" is worse than the toxic solvent — does not give any supports, but increasingly undermines and prevents sound interference bursts into your air, seized the leg of the guilt traps of "should". "Listen to me, listen to me, I tell you the best, and that in front of people was not ashamed" — and instantly turns on inside the deafening "white noise", and so it becomes a pity the time I wasted.

Thank you — it is not necessary for such a kindness, such a haunting shroud of tips from around the world, mossy of expertise with the published shelf life, references to great books and authors about anything.We lose the beat and forget that if you do not ask, do not ask for something and assessment your do not need, because the situation in which other stew that has you so miserably little in common: if you're into something he didn't invest the money, what other resources do, especially if you don't risk something important to you, do not put on the line, did not pass, however, who suggest, through a crazy load of responsibility and stress, it is not necessary then to go for a holiday table without asking, to stretch hands to the sugar loaf. Then say: Oh, how delicious, quick, and delicious, remember, Martha: next time you work with the dough — call me.

As I once wrote, "you have time and the right to feel what you feel, no matter how "inconvenient" and "ugly" these feelings may be. No one can tell you "relax" until tightened to the same degree. Have not got into your skin. You, and only you know what is happening, what forces. "Want to help me — tell me what you've been through this before and survived. Or just come and hug me, but don't dishonor my pain with his "Oh, okay"".

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Safe people — those from your environment, with which talks are sparring in the ring and not intellectual games on "weak", not the verbal ping-pong "well, surprise me, paraplane" and not a magic cocktail of humor and sarcasm. All this may be, but in those quiet and comfortable times, when you're in a rush, and forces > and to off is more than in abundance.But when not funny, and dark, and wonder what's outside the window, and a starless sky are not going for the glitter of Christmas tinsel, but for those that support and nourish; to those who will listen and understand, and most importantly knows all over, not always without a trace, but — "You gonna be okay, I tell you. And yet — come here, give me a hug.Hug, my good and blows…"published  

 

Author: Olga Primachenko

P. S. And remember, just changing your mind — together we change the world! ©

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