for the fallen

This morning he said he woke up with his arms crossed over his chest, and he very nearly thought it scared the life out of him. Because for a moment he couldn't tell whether he was cold, or lonely, or dead. Or if there's even a meaningful difference between being cold, and being lonely, and being dead. And he suddenly feared being cold and being lonely, because deep down he was by no means ready for death.

I told him how Tony was right in saying that this whole world is cold, and that everybody's lonely, and desperate to feel alive. But that you can't let the fear of the cold and the fear of the loneliness drive you to desperation.

I said you already know that the opposite of fear is hope. That you have to drive yourself out of that cold bed. Shit, drive yourself all the way to sunny Arizona. Build that warm home here. And no matter how frightening, step out of its door each and every sun-bleached day to seek companionship; to give compassion; to fight, fight with every breath to live.

Then in that very moment I raised my head to my chest, and opened my eyes just wide enough to make out that my arms were rigidly crossed over my chest, and I thought, "God damn! Where were you when I needed those words?"