the threads in her head

butterflies in the heart-

Sickness is
Dialing his number once, or twice
Checking back with another friend
Knowing he might be irritated
Surfing his blog and seeing an entry at 9.30
Being positively sure he went offline at about 9
Getting increasingly worried
Pressing those 8 digits again - if I had not known his number before I certainly do now
5, 6 calls already maybe, without a single response
Trying to vent, lightheartedly to distance it... unsuccesful( "oh... brb, i'm busy")
Knowing this day has taken its toll on me
Conscious of the fact that fatigue had gripped me since an hour plus ago
About 5 more calls maybe, with no answer still
Butterflies threatening to make me cry
Knowing there's nothing I can do in my capacity.

There has never been anything I can do in my own capacity.
There is nothing I can do.
Not my choice, not my strength, not for me.

Ending the day with lots of prayers, keep him safe, keep him safe. Then leaving it, and going off to bed, though with half an impulse to still want to cry, and yet, it felt like a net had been tossed over the butterflies. Still there, still there, but fluttering helplessly themselves this time.