Sometimes that's all you need. Sometimes you need to cry. Sometimes you need to just cry to remind yourself that you can still feel normal. Sometimes you just need to cry.
Sometimes, though, you need someone to cry with you. Sometimes you need to know that the one person that you need to lean on is just as scared as you are. But they're too busy trying to hide that they're just as scared as you are to be the support that you really need. And they don't turn to you to support them because they don't want you to deal with your own fear and theirs as well.
What they don't understand, though, is that the best way they can support you, the best way they can help, is to let you know. To show you that they're afraid. That they care. That, if heaven forbid, something were to happen, that it would affect them. What they don't understand is that, when you say, "I'm scared," what you need to hear from them is, "So am I." Sometimes you need the support of shared experience, shared emotion.
When I was first diagnosed, back in 2006, one of the times that sticks out most in my mind is one night, when I was terrified. We went to bed, and I was just terrified. That night, Hans held me all night. He told me he was scared. He told me he was afraid of what would happen. He told me that he was scared, too. That night, I have remembered that night for six years. I remember that night as the most important of our entire relationship thus far, because we shared that. We shared the fear, the emotions, the experience.
Today, that is what I need. I need to know that I am not the only one that is scared. I need to know that I'm not the only one worried about what comes next. I am terrified. And I need to not be alone in my terror. I need to know. I need to matter.