your 97th tear.

I am on my sister's computer (while she mountain bikes 9ish miles, which I might possibly be doing if I'd stuck to my exercise regimen back at the Uni [before stuff to do with traveling hit me like.. something that would prevent me from continuing my exercise regimen] and also if I hadn't eaten Persian kuftah balls at the Dushanbe, which are tasty but made me feel less than physically adventurous). My mother is in the other room complaining about things like her teeth (sensitive) and her ankle (swollen). Not out loud, but in her head, I'm sure.

I had been reading a Sarah Vowell book, and I could be studying, but I mostly want to ponder--a bit more... then I'll ponder tonight--about My Place. In the lives of others. Generally I'm pretty good at determining that place, but it can be difficult. When you're feeling awful, to what degree is someone who was important in your life (but now is estranged) allowed to intervene? Is anyone welcome to offer their support? Is there a territory far above and more sacred than the romantic (and the problems associated with it) where you can continue to exist, sitting quietly and listening, or offering the fact that you care, if that could help anything? Basically: Can you offer support when, at one time, you might have been part of the cause of the need of support?

I'm deeply skeptical--not only of my ability to help, but also of my ability not to be detrimental. And I wouldn't be exploring this question if it didn't seem like an extreme situation.

But I'm not sure what can help a person. Bounding back in to someone's life to declare yourself ready to listen seems condescending. Who am I to assume that nobody exists to fulfill that role as it is?

But what if I can offer something? Like the image of myself extending a cup of tea in that person's direction, instead of something more resembling a pitchfork, or a wavering glass of gin--which it wouldn't take a lot to imagine, from that person's shoes. But who knows how believable it would be. In some cases, it's just better for people not to interact. It has been decided before--probably dozens of times--that this is one of those cases. Largely because of my own actions.

Is the best option here to calm myself down with a cup of tea and abstain from involving myself, having faith that a friend can find his way out of the darkness without me, or if he can't, that I would only be a burden?

I don't know. I also don't know which of us my refusing to say anything would benefit more. But I do know that my sister has three kinds of tea, and that's something I'm going to take advantage of, right now.