Jane, precious

No, that's it. My precious angel is Jane. She is a friend that truly loves me with all of her being (non-sexually). She saved me from my downward spiral. I had already hit rock-bottom, and the next step was death or confinement. Jane loved me, cared for me, held me as I went through withdrawal, rushed me to the hospital when it was too much to handle herself, drove me 6 hours to treatment (I had been a couple times already, but this was a different facility). It took me nearly a week to detox, and I walked out of the treatment center, called Jane on the phone and told her I was ready to come back. She drove up and grabbed me. 

I never drank, or did drugs, again. It was her love, her words, her caring, that saved my life. Christmas was around the corner, and one of her favorite authors is Mary Oliver. I looked her up on the internet, found her phone number, and called her. At first she denied that she was THE Mary Oliver (a poet). This took a few minutes, and then I laid my story about Jane on her, and how her poem, the Wild Geese was Jane's favorite. I asked if I sent a book if she would sign it and send it back. She took my number.

The next day, she called and told me to send it. It came back just in-time.

Now cities apart, she was here last week and we just fell step by step right into our special rhythm. I miss her more and more every day...

Below are the beginning lines for Wild Geese by Mary Oliver.

Wild Geese 

You do not have to be good. 
You do not have to walk on your knees 
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. 
You only have to let the soft animal of your body 
 love what it loves. 
 Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.