I wasn't planning on this happening at all. The timing of it was, in fact, a little bit awkward. To the point, she sent me a message on Facebook, expressing some vague distress. I asked if she was okay and all she could answer was "no. no no no." I asked her if she needed me there with her, and she asked me to come over, warning me that she was already a little bit drunk and apologizing for it.

She left the door unlocked for me, and upon entering I saw not a small collection of empty beer cans already on the counter. I found her fiddling with her living room stereo and already in a weird state. I asked her what was wrong. She hugged me tight and said "everything." Stresses had been piling up on her head. Financial complexities, difficulties at work and a feeling of nagging loneliness from not having had a boyfriend for several years. They all hit her hard tonight after the drive home and left her feeling quite a wreck.

I sat down in a chair, and she sat opposite me. We exchanged pleasantries and she asked me to grab her another beer. Upon returning I set it down on a nearby table, and her head sank down to her chest as she began to tell me of her woes. Opening up my arms, I invited her over to my chair. She sat down in my lap, facing me with straddled legs wrapped around me on either side. Her arms closed around me and her head fell onto my left shoulder. I wondered to myself, "is she going to cry on me tonight?" I was answered a few seconds later when I felt her belly begin to shake against me with silent sobs. 

I said, "you need to cry on me, don't you?" She nodded a silent, choked assent and began sobbing, not hard or loud, but deeply as her embrace tightened around me. She paused and said to me, "I just can't feel attractive at times. I hate whining about this, but I wonder so often why no one seems to go for me?"

I responded to her, reminding her that I've always thought she was beautiful, not just in face and body, but in soul. Because there were so many things we didn't see eye to eye on, but I would always count her as an important friend. That she was a treasure for how close she held people in her hearts, and how I wished she could love herself as much as she loved her friends, as much as her friends loved her. 

Our talk ran late into the night, as she popped open more beers. At times she would laugh with me over some anecdote of good memories, other times she would fall into despair and sobbing. She is a very affectionate woman, and I've often noted of her tendency to nuzzle her cheek against mine. As it happened tonight, her cheek was often very wet when it found mine, and she tenderly rubbed her tears off against my face, passing the hurt out of her mind and onto me, where I could let it evaporate into thin air. 

I reminded her of the times when I was going through a difficult patch in my life, and how comforting words from her had kept me going. She seemed incredulous at this and asked "when?" I reminded her of something she once said to me, about how not everyone gets into her inner circle, but that she had sensed that I had a good heart, and how she had begged me not to throw that part of me away, but to cultivate it for goodness. I told her of this, and how it had inspired me, and how I hoped that she could now feel the goodness coming back to warm her own heart, and to share in the love that she had spread. 

After about the third time that she broke down into sobbing, she eventually began to feel relief washing over her. She always looks beautiful after she has cried, especially when she's been comforted. Her face looks so genuinely cleansed when she smiles her dimply smile with her wet, tired, hazel eyes that are sparkling with new happiness. It reminds me of one of the reasons why I'll never begrudge comforting a woman who genuinely needs it, the satisfaction of sharing in her burning the emotional clots out of her veins, and helping her cry her way back to joy. 

It was now very late, and she was now quite tipsy. She offered to put me up for the night, but I told her I needed to change the oil in my Jeep before work the next day and my oil pan was home. She got up and immediately stumbled, so I put my arms around her and began to carry her. She said, "no, you don't have to take me all the way to bed, the couch is fine tonight. Promise." 

I lay her down on the couch, shutting off the lights in the house behind me, and began pulling blankets over her. "Aww, you're tucking me in," she said, and laughed a free, joyous laugh. I gave her one last hug and knelt down beside her head, rubbing her scalp gently with my fingers while whisper-singing "Au Clair de la Lune" into her ear. She said, "I have no idea what you just said but it's beautiful. It's beautiful." I responded, "it's an old French lullaby. Goodnight, Alicia." The last thing I heard as I shut out the last lights and left by the front door was her whispering "goodnight...it's beautiful...it's beautiful...it's beautiful..."