Reassurance

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Reassurance

“I just want to help people, you know”.

Jeni told me when we were sitting on the lawn in front of our dorm. The rain that plagued the spring semester had finally let up, leaving behind a clean smell of grass. The sun peaked out from the light grey clouds, bathing us in the toasty warmth of its light.  Jeni and I were curled up near each other under the big tree, our backs on the rough trunk. Beneath us, the ground was firm, a light, almost greyish brown – walked on too much to grow any grass.

I had propped my sketchpad on my knees, trying to capture the shadows of the leaves on Jeni’s brown skin. She tilted her head up and closed her eyes, eyebrows pinched in thoughts.

“I just want my friends to be happy”, she sighed, slumping into herself. I shaded the drops of sunlight on Jeni’s lashes, the shadows of which long and slender on her cheekbones. Broad strokes for her jawline.

I hummed to let her know that I was listening, pencil moving onto her neck. Delicate curves and small shoulders. Jeni didn’t expect me to speak, always content with my silent presence. It was soothing, she said. She knew I was always there for her, no need for pretty words and meaningless chatters.

It was easy, Jeni and I. We gravitated toward each other, and we clicked. I scooted just a smidge closer to her.

“But sometimes I was so afraid, you know. I know I’m not even the most observant person in the world, and I know that I am so insensitive sometimes. I’m just a 20-year-old student trying to play therapist, Sophie. And one day I will say the wrong word and do the wrong thing and I will hurt someone. I just want to help, Sophie, but I don’t know what I am doing. I don’t even know if I will ever know what I am doing. And I am terrified of that”. Her lips quivered, and she tugged on her braids, shoulder hunching.   

I pressed my shoulders against Jeni’s. She didn’t put her head on me, but we were never physical people. Silence blanketed us, and the wind sent a rain of tiny leaves onto our hair. I relined the drawing and erased the lighter pencil guides. Blowing away the leaves and the eraser residues. I nudged Jeni and offered my sketchpad. She let out a wet laugh and pushed on my shoulder lightly.

I turned the page and scribbled onto the back of the drawing:

You cared. Sometimes it is enough.

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