I enter my home, sink into my chaise lounge and weep. The tears that find their way out are not slow and graceful, but violent and thunderous. I try to muffle them, but they show no signs of being quieted. I pick up the phone, dial my friend, “Charo,” and while I try to speak, my tears muffle my words.

Charo waits patiently for me to calm down. She recognizes the pain even though she is left to interpret the sign language of distress.

“Who hurt you?” She asks. “I will………..”

You can fill in the blanks. Charo is instinctively loyal.

Charo and I process pain differently. She is not likely to spend time at home crying. She is more likely to honestly, not give a …….!

It doesn’t matter that we greet pain differently. She allows me my own interpretation. I am a worrier that cares. She is caring and doesn’t worry.

I use caution and say, “I don’t think that’s a good idea Charo.” She throws caution to the wind and says, “I think it’s a great idea.”

I was raised with unfaltering love and that would be our common denominator. It is hard for us both to leave any love, any friendship behind.

I spit out my story while turning into a bigger, salt covered, hot mess.

I’ve always said that I hope I am not judged by a few days in my life, but on how I lived my life overall. It is a mantra for me because I believe that we should be judged on our overall reputation and not our less than favorable moments in life.

Unfortunately, I chose to stay in a bad situation too long.

The time I spent struggling and trying to save my marriage, momentarily changed me from who I had always been to what I would label a, “stranger,” even to me. When people love you, it’s hard for them to witness your, ‘disappearing act.’

I am still friends with my best friend from grade school, best friends from high school, college, my first job, my friends in Baltimore during my years as a young mother. I do not let go of people easily.

My divorce has brought about many new beginnings and endings. It has forced me to relinquish some ties which is anything, but natural to me.

There is an irony that I loved so much that I wouldn’t walk away from that love, only to lose so much of myself that a few people would end up walking away from me.

The tears Charo absorb are for the ones I know now see me differently. It is humbling and difficult to bear even though Charo reminds me there are still many that still see me for who I have always been.

I take a cue from my friend, Charo.

I stop crying. I am still me down deep. The pain just temporarily covered me up.

The ones with our common denominator of unfaltering love will stay with my heart as it moves forward.

If not, then for the first time in my life, I am leaving some love behind.