I met her here, on OS. She contacted me via a private message about my Sexless Marriage post, our lives being almost identical in that regard. We've never met and likely won't, and we don't need to. We live in different countries, a different hemisphere even, and meeting is not much of a possibility. 

I am not an easy person to know, to like, to relate to. I used to be giving and funny and even 'delightful' ( as I was once called), but no longer. I remember how I was, that friendly, kind woman from so long ago, and though I sometimes wish I could be her again, I know she's gone now. People who meet me now, I wonder, what is there here to like?

When we first started writing I was here to support her, to sit with her as she revealed the pain and sadness of her marriage, her loneliness, her anguish. She did and I did, and I think I might have helped her a little. My support and understanding made a bit of a difference to her, to her understanding of herself. It was good. But then she wanted more, more from me, more of me. Her messages brought questions, deeply intuitive and perceptive questions. The questions disconcerted me.

I tried. I responded to each message, mostly answering what she asked and deftly, (I'm so sure it was deftly) avoiding what I didn't want to say, what I didn't want to see in black and white on the screen. She let this go on for a few messages, telling me more about her life, her aches and wants, but then she'd ask again, pushing for more from me each time.

Eventually I answered, dreading the actual typing and tapping of the keys.  I sent my words like bricks through the post, heavy like wet sod. "No one could answer this," I'd think. "This is too much, too sad, too ponderous, too forsaken. " And then... after a few days, another message from her, challening my thoughts, questioning my reasoning, and offering her best hopes and wishes for me. She has never misunderstood me, nor let me minimize a feeling or a fear, a desire. She calls me "Dearest" and sends me "sustaining embraces". My pulse  jumps a little when I see a message from her. I know she is here to push me hard, and to catch me, too. She wants me to try out new ideas, new scenarios for my life, to imagine, to dream. It scares me and intrigues me. I adore it and turn away from it all at once.

Last week was particularly harsh for me. I didn't like much of anything in the world. I avoided her messages completely and for longer than before. Finally, yesterday, a message came from her with a subject line that said, "Let me hear from you". My response back was thoughtful but unappreciative. "I can't. I can't be your friend. I have nothing, nothing to offer. Life here is hard and I cannot be a friend. I will make you sad and I cannot bear it. Please don’t ask more of me. I cannot do it. We must rethink this friendship."

This afternoon, her response: "I am going to ignore most of what you wrote here. Especially the part about us no longer corresponding." She signed it with a sustaining embrace.

Of course I had hoped and somehow trusted that she would answer that way, that she wouldn't run. Of course I want her words to keep coming to me, to sustain me. I have no idea what I ever did to deserve such a friend in my life. No possible idea. 

May one thank a web site for this? For bringing me such a lovely and giving friend? I think I must. So thank you, OS. For her.