Nothing Less than Everything that Matters
August 29th, 2007 at 10:23 am (Uncategorized)
I hate friends. Really, I do. I hate the empty words and shallow thoughts to and about one another. I hate the dinner table conversations about our families and what our favorite shows are. I can’t wait to be alone when I am with them. They don’t know who I am or where I’m coming from. They don’t know how I feel about this paper or how badly I want to be godly. My friends know that I live in Greenville, that my favorite color is turquoise, that I love chicken fingers.
Real true relationships with people begin with knowing that I am going to be in a bad mood if I have a paper due in the next 5 days because I’ll be so completely stressed about a topic, or understanding that I really don’t care where we go eat because either way I’m going to get chicken. These relationships are not as hard—I will never have to think of something to talk about or worry about silence in the car—if there is silence it’s probably because we are thinking about the same thing. They are, however, much harder emotionally. I will have to worry about when they are going to leave or when I am going to have to start living without them being a part of my everyday routine.
I’ve never found a more rare occurrence than a relationship with someone. Maybe I’m just incapable of opening up to people, or maybe I’m incapable of allowing most people to open up to me. A true friend knows that it’s probably more of the latter. I don’t deal well with emotions. I can’t stand to see someone cry—it’s awkward, and I certainly don’t like to feel like I’m attached to anyone, so when I give in to those feelings of endearment, I find myself making one of two decisions: running, or slowly breaking down the wall.
My best friends know that I am a complete spaz, but love me for it. They know that I’m certainly not going to change who I am or how I feel just so that they can become more comfortable. They have all accepted that I will ignore their phone calls because I hate the phone and they will all still call anyway just to leave a voicemail that I most likely won’t check for another week.
Friends are only there for the short term. They won’t be there when you are wrinkly and ugly, they won’t be there to hear you vent, but will certainly be there to vent to you. Friends are selfish.
Relationships understand, don’t just know. They aren’t tolerant of anything less than the best for the other person, and let them know when they are settling. Real friends tell you what’s in the back of your mind because you aren’t willing to go there to listen yourself. It is honest, grateful, loving, harsh, sweet, painful, patient, addictive. They know nothing less than everything that matters.