Heartbreaker

“IMMA!!! My lev (heart) is hurting!  Imma’le!  My feelings!”

She runs up the stairs, away from her best friend who had just ripped her heart apart.  I race up after her.  She is curled outside our door, tears streaming down her face from her swollen eyes.

My brave little girl looks up at me.  Her jaw sets a bit as she angrily swipes at her eyes.

“I”m not crying about that.  It’s just…I got…a boo boo.  When I came up the stairs.  That’s why I’m crying.  It’s not about that.”

And she grips my hand as we walk back down and out, past her ‘favorite friend in the whole wide world,’ the boy who doesn’t want to come to her birthday party because his friends make fun of him because he plays with a girl.

I comfort.

I console.

I sit quietly as she tell me how very much it hurts.

She wraps her fingers tightly around mine as she gives a little sob.  Her face clears and she looks at me calmly.

“Thank you Imma.  Thank you for making my heart feel better.”

And now I am sobbing…and my heart breaks…knowing….that one day…I will not be enough…to mend her broken heart…kiss away her pain…shield her from evil…give her safety and security…because…one day…my love…will not be…enough.

I wipe my tears and shake that last sob out as the strongest girls in the world snuggles up to me and says, “Imma, ze lo norah (it’s not so bad), if he wants to come, so he will.  If not, we can find another boy to invite.”