"Whoever you are, I have always depended on the kindness of strangers."
Blanche DuBois, in Tennessee Williams' A Streetcar Named Desire
"I’ve always depended on the ... tender kindness of my good friends."
An old woman once told me, "What you see is never what you get." She must have been wisdom herself. Today, I face the mirror that reflects the mask I put on without fail to assure the world everything's all right, and I think: you must know that behind this smile, there is a deluge of tears that every day lashes away at a slowly crumbling dam. Sometimes, especially when a day is beautiful and all I see before me is the endless promise of the blue beyond, I feel a little crack giving way to what could be the final burst of things. Sometimes I think there must be peace afterwards. On blue days, in me stirs a strange longing for the end. But also this: how much a sigh from me can be small silent comfort which I get when I feel your arms embrace me, the surprise of your touch that folds me in -- like a blanket to ward off the night -- telling me, everything is all right, everything is all right. For a brief moment, I find myself wanting to believe.