I can save... but sometimes I want to be saved

My job is to be where someone is hurting.
Where hands are shaking, breathing is out of order,
where you need to act clearly and quickly,
even when there is a storm inside.

I am used to keeping myself in hand,
being strong, collected, needed.
I save others.
And then - I come here.
And I remain a woman,
who also dreams, feels, wants.

Here I am not a doctor.
Here I am just me.
Tender. Sensual. Sometimes tired.
Sometimes incredibly alive.
And if you are reading this -
perhaps you are the one who will feel me not by the pulse,
but by the look... by the word... by the silence.

I know how to breathe in and out when everything is falling apart.
But honestly?
Sometimes I just want to hear:
"I am here. Everything will be fine." No sirens. No alarms. Just you and me.