The dimly lit hallway you walked down hesitantly, your feet seeming to sluggishly drag against the old carpeting, danced with the shadows of the light that shone from the only occupied room. It was the small room at the very end of the hall, on the left, and as your nervous feet brought you closer, you could hear the faint murmurs of voices. There weren't many, that much you could tell. But as you listened vaguely from your hidden spot in the hall, you heard the emptiness that filled the minimal voices. The pain and the sadness wafted into the hallway air as their words slowly escaped them, and it seemed as though the room was splitting at the seams with hurting bodies, when in reality it was nearly scarce. But you could almost feel the heaviness of their lost souls as you stepped closer to the doorway. As though you were walking into a thunderstorm of anguish and remembrance that swirled with vengeance around you, tightening your chest and challenging your every step, the closer you inched towards the wide open door. 

You were thankful for the quietness of the flooring beneath your boots, the carpeting keeping the floorboards from creaking beneath your sudden weight. You were appreciative of the silence that allowed you to peer into the fluorescent lit room, without your presence being noticed by those who resided inside. 

You stared silently at those who sat in old folding chairs, spread out in a small circle in the center of the room. Long tables were picked up and leaning sadly against the far walls, leaving the room wider and emptier than it already was. The room could've once been filled with smiling people and brighter light, happier stories to be told, but the walls sagged as did those in the black chairs. Plagued by the years of loss that had passed, leaving all of that in the past. 

Your eyes refocused as a man suddenly stood slowly to his feet, his palms pressing against his thighs as he rose, and in the way he addressed the small group around him, you could tell he was the leader of the therapy group. Even though nothing marked him as such, there was something in the way he stood and faced every man around him with empathy and clear kindness in his expressions, that told you that he ran the group. 

You watched as the man with perfectly swept blonde hair and pained eyes shook the hands of those around him, as they began to make their way to the doorway you hid beside. He mumbled words to some and lent a kind smile to others as he watched them leave one by one. Anxiety swam through your veins as each one passed by you, the wind of their movements causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, and you feared someone would question what you were doing out in the hallway. But no one did, they all continued to walk past you, and it felt as though you were invisible. As though you were just another spot on the wall they passed. 

As soon as the last man turned and disappeared down the hall, you felt yourself inhale a deep breath for the first time in minutes. You weren't exactly sure why you felt nervous that you might get caught standing outside the small room, eavesdropping on the group inside. There was no harm in what you were doing, yet your mind swarmed with fear. And as you took a small step forward, your eyes fell upon something. It hung against a shelf that stood against the wall right inside of the doorway, the first thing you saw when you were to enter the room. And as you read the words on the small sign, you realized your fear had nothing to do with the people inside or the fact that they might frown upon your sudden presence in their group.

Your fear was in yourself... and your own baggage that you brought to the group.

"You can come in if you'd like," A voice rang out in the small space, and yet it seemed to bounce off the walls with a strong power. "there's no reason for you to hide in the hallway all night."

His tone was calm and soft, confronting but in the most comforting way possible. And his words, although they called you out of your hiding space, they didn't frighten you. 

Peering further into the room, as your feet began to move timidly away from the wall, your eyes fell upon the same man you had looked to moments earlier. His back was to you now, as his strong arms picked each chair up swiftly and folded them to place against the long wall across from you. But the light from the slightly flickering fluorescent lightbulbs above, shone down upon him, and even from the angle in which you saw him, you could make out his features better than you could before. 

"I didn't mean to intrude."

You weren't sure what prompted you to speak up in the monstrous void of silence, that had washed over the small space, but you soon heard your soft voice ring out as you passed through the threshold. It seemed so small, so inadequate compared to the man who had spoken to you before. And yet, your faint and lackluster words were the thing to turn the man around. And within seconds, his kind eyes were on you. And you could feel them instantly, as though he had the power to see straight through you as though you were made of fragile glass. And perhaps in some sense you were. 

"You're not intruding, there's nothing for you to be intruding on. This is a place for anyone who needs it."

His eyes were a stunning shade of blue, you could see them better now. And they left you with your mind scrambling for a response, as you gazed entranced by the sight. 

"I'm just sorry you missed the others, but you're welcome to take a seat if you'd like."

His words were gentle and kind, and everything that goodness was made of. And staring at the man who seemed more a figment of magic than of reality, you had forgotten there could be a sensation other than pain deep in your chest. For warmth, spread like a wildfire through you, as he regarded you with a tenderness. And his hand slowly reached out and pointed to two chairs that still sat side by side in the now dispersed circle.

You swallowed quickly, as you began to feel a thick lump forming in the back of your tight throat. And twisting your hands together anxiously in front of you, you responded softly in the small space. "To be honest, I'm not quite sure why I'm even here."

The man's soft blue eyed gaze continued to fall over you like a wave, and he slowly nodded his head in understanding. "There's no shame in that."

"Someone I know--" You winced at your own mistake, and looking down at your fingers, you corrected yourself. "someone I knew... her husband told me about this group he goes to from time to time."

The man nodded again, and proceeded to take a seat in one of the two empty standing chairs. But even as he moved and sat down swiftly, his eyes never left you. His attention was completely on you, and it was slightly unnerving. His kindness... rattled your bones in a way that made you feel uneasy. He truly looked as though he cared about you, about your story, about the pain you had gone through. 

"I would thank him every time he brought it up, maybe throw in that I'd check it out sometime. But I never really had any intentions of coming here."

The man reclined slightly, crossing his right ankle over his left leg and pursed his lips softly. "It's never easy, the first step. But you're here now, aren't you?"

You nodded at his words, but soon it became more of an unsure shrug of your tightly held shoulders. "That's the thing, I'm not really sure how I even got here. I just started walking down the street, because I couldn't sleep, I never sleep anymore. And I didn't have a destination in mind, I just wanted to waste away the night. But somehow, my feet brought me here." 

"Sometimes we don't know the places we need to be until we're there."

You swallowed deeply as you regarded the man with a raised brow, "You certainly have all the answers, don't you?"

It was the first time he shook his head instead of nod in agreeance with you. "I don't. Nobody does. I'm just telling you what I see."

You slowly wrapped your arms around yourself, as though to protect yourself from his heavy yet soft scrutiny. As though you could shield him from looking into the depths of your aching soul with his unrealistically beautiful blue eyes. 

"And what do you see?"

The room fell silent for a moment, your word settling in the air as the man continued to watch you with unwavering eyes. You could feel as he studied you, the way his eyes were locked on you as though you were the only thing to look at in the entire room. 

"I see a woman in pain."

You wanted to laugh at his words. Wasn't everyone who came to this place in some kind of pain? Wasn't everyone in the world now, in some sort of pain?? But as the honesty of his words began to soak into your numb and thick skin, you began to slowly realize that you only wanted to laugh because yet again this man had managed to see straight through you. 

"I see a woman who's afraid to accept what's happened to her," He spoke softly. "and I don't blame her. We all fear that acceptance on some level is really giving up hope that it could change, that what's lost can come back. We all fear moving on, because how can moving on mean anything but forgetting what happened? Forgetting what was and who we lost? I can see your fear to move on, because I've been through it myself."

"I know that," You took a deep breath as you felt the sting of tears in the corners of your eyes. And you could feel as they began to lodge in the back of your throat. "me surviving, that me still being here, needs to mean something. But how are you supposed to make the most of a spared life when the things that made your life, are gone? How are you supposed to accept that you got to live, when others... when children, didn't?"

And as your raw and anguished words reached the man's ears, it was the first time since you met him that his eyes faltered. They fell from your face and shut tightly for a moment, and you could see him beginning to understand a sliver of the pain you brought with you. 

"I keep telling everybody they should move on--"

"And have you?" 

His blue eyes returned to yours almost instantly, but something in them had darkened. And you recognized that shadow. It was a shadow you carried with you everyday, weighing you down with every shaking step you took. And to see that this man carried it in some small way as well, it made him seem less of perfection... and more human. 

"No."

You watched as his eyes dropped once again to his hands curled on top of his thighs, and felt as your legs began to move you towards the beautiful stranger. You sat in the last open uncomfortable black folding chair beside him, and looking over at the man, you could not only see but feel the loss radiating off of him.

"I'm sorry," You whispered. "I never meant to come here and challenge what it is you speak to others. Because I know for some, it's what they need. They need the push and compassion and support that you provide. And I never meant to come here and take it away."

"You didn't," He said softly, and his head rose slowly. "you're just finding your own way to cope with the loss you've experienced. And for some, that coping takes more time."

"But?" You asked anxiously, and he turned his head to look your way.

"But nothing," He shook his head gently. "I have to try and help those I can heal and move on if they can, because it's all that I can really do. But that doesn't mean I'm in any position to tell you how to cope."

"I can't tell you that the life you have now will turn out to be something extraordinary, or better than before. I have no way of knowing that. I can't tell you that it won't hurt one day, that the pain will disappear. Because it won't, that's not how loss works. I went into the ice right after meeting the love of my life, and still to this day, I carry that loss of what could have been. I can't tell you how long you have to feel broken and shattered by the loss. There's no real time table."

"All I can do, is help those that I can, and tell you that you're still here. What you do with that, is up to you."

His words were true and painful, and beautiful and hard to swallow all at the same time. But he spoke them with a sureness that nearly took away the sting. He didn't judge you for the way you went after the things he said in these meetings. He didn't blame you for the anger and hurt and sadness that drove your words. He simply accepted that the way you cope differed from him and those he helped. And it was the first time, you didn't feel some pressure from society to find a way to move on. It felt as though this man was a port in the middle of a storming sea, and he called out to you, and let you rest in his safe harbor. For as long as you needed, without any pressure to set sail the next day.

You looked over at him, and even as his eyes were gazing out in front of him towards the wall across from him, you stared at him with grateful eyes. For they felt open for the very first time in five years. 

The place you feared to enter, the memories and reality you avoided to accept, was exactly what brought you into this clarity. It brought you to this man who gave you something you never thought you'd ever receive. Faith... in yourself. That it wasn't impossible to live in this world again. He had been right... sometimes you didn't know the place you needed to be until you were there.

Reaching your right hand out hesitantly, your fingertips graze against the warm flesh of his left hand. And the sensation causes him to look over at you with a warm look in his now softened blue eyes. 

"We're still here."

A/N: Wow this is a long one!! The idea of this one came to me, and I wanted to simply let the writing flow. Letting it go where it wanted and not box it into a certain path. And I'm very happy I did, because I'm very content with where it landed. It's raw and honest and something different than the others I've written. I hope you all enjoyed it!❤