I cried for her.
This is a woman who I want to be like. I don't think I could be strong like her. I have been waiting to see a photo of Nie Nie since her crash, I don't know why. Maybe just out of curiosity, but I think it has more to do with trying to wrap my brain around the whole story, the whole trial. Knowing the before, and fully grasping the after.
When she wrote about her young son being frightened by her, my heart ached. When he started to recognize her again, I rejoiced, alone, in my computer chair.
The thing is, I am not alone in my rejoicing, or my aching. So many of you know exactly what I am talking about. I am sure your husbands have all had to peek in on you as you cried silently, and they didn't quite understand the way your heart felt knit to hers.
We are women. We mourn with those who mourn. We want so desperately to comfort those who need to be comforted. We are sisters.
This kind of love hurts sometimes. But then, it also helps us to feel inexplicable joys. I don't know her. But I wish and dream with her. I feel frustration and sadness with her. I love her.
And I bet those of you who read her words, you love her, too.
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