I can’t imagine the pain they must be feeling, and saying hang in there sounds really fucking insensitive. I hated when people told me that after Mom passed, and sometimes hearing nothing was a hell of a lot easier to listen to than forced sympathy. I remember the days when I couldn’t leave my bed. Maverick would come to my apartment, sit next to me on the comforter, and not say a word. He’d stay there for hours, only moving to bring me a bowl of soup that he hand-fed me so I could put something in my body. “I’m… I’m not fine, but I’m hanging in there, you know? Being here with you all helps.
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