Internal Affairs

Can I Heal

I watched her closely, making sure she didn’t slip away again.

"She’s been carrying this alone for a long time, hasn’t she?"

Beggy nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Can you ask her how she feels? What she needs?"

A hesitation. Then, slowly, "She’s scared. She doesn’t know what to do. She just wants to fix it all, but she’s tired."

A deep breath. "She wants help."

"Let’s do something together," I said gently. "Can you imagine yourself stepping closer to her? Not as a thought, but as if you’re really there with her?"

Beggy’s breathing hitched, but she nodded. Her fingers curled slightly, her body stiff as if bracing for something.

"Good," I encouraged. "Now, let her know you’re here. You don’t need to fix anything. Just be with her. See what she does."

A long silence stretched between us. Beggy’s brows furrowed, her lips parting slightly as if she were listening to something I couldn’t hear.

"She’s looking at me," she finally murmured. "She doesn’t trust me yet."

"That’s okay," I reassured her. "She’s been alone for a long time. Just stay. No expectations, no pressure. Let her set the pace."

Another pause. Then, a shaky exhale.

"She’s crying. She’s angry, too. She thinks I abandoned her."

"Tell her you see her pain. Tell her you understand. That you never meant to leave her alone."

Beggy swallowed hard. "I… I don’t know if she’ll believe me."

"She doesn’t have to—not yet. Just let her hear you. Let her know you’re listening."

She hesitated, then, softer than a breath, "I’m here. I see you. I hear you. I didn’t know how to find you before, but I’m here now."

The moment stretched. Something unspoken shifted between them.

Beggy’s face crumpled. Her hands unclenched. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"She’s… she’s reaching for me."

I nodded, though she couldn’t see me. "If it feels right, hold her. Let her feel what it’s like not to be alone."

A trembling inhale. Then, "I’m holding her. She’s so small. I didn’t realize how small she was. She just wanted someone to hold her."

Her voice cracked. "She doesn’t have to do this alone anymore."

I smiled softly. "Neither do you."

The air around us felt lighter. Like something old had exhaled. Like something long buried had finally seen the light.

For the first time, Beggy wasn’t just seeing herself. She was with herself.

And she wasn’t letting go.