Posts Tagged ‘friendship’
To forgive you, #3.
What would it take to forgive you?
—To the one who tried to ask.—
Did you really think after two decades it would be enough to offer me $100 to buy my love? One Christmas in all those years would really be enough to make it up to me? The years you missed with me are worth far more than that. Had I accepted, you would’ve gotten a bargain. You, however are not worth a fraction of your offer. No, I won’t even consider accepting.
To forgive you, #2.
What would it take to forgive you?
—To the one who almost asked.—
You came to the door today, I wasn’t supposed to be here, you were expecting someone else to answer. A moment of panic for us both. No words said, and eye contact narrowly avoided as you handed the small box of my belongings to me. Behind the closed door, through a part in the window curtain, I watched you get into your car. You sat there looking back at the house and for a second I thought you might work up the nerve to turn around and come back to my door. I could see the struggle in your face as you made the decision to turn on your car and drive away.
To forgive you, #1.
What would it take to forgive you?
—To the one who never asked.—
If you showed up at my door today, unannounced, after nearly ten years of absence, would I let you in? I willingly admit I still love you. When you disappeared on me, I thought I would never get over it, never get over you. I am over you, yet I still miss the way you made me feel. If you could promise to make me feel that way again, even if for a small moment, I would let you in. But would that be enough to forgive you for the way you make me feel in your absence?
We’re all big losers.
next time you catch yourself feeling self-pityingly inferior to almost everyone you know, take heart: you’re right, but then, it’s the same for them, too.
Ever wondered why your friends seem so much more popular than you are? There’s a reason for that
Illustration: Masako Kubo
Outward Appearances.
I had a wool sweater once. Very comfortable. Very warm. Very soft. Big enough to be really comfy but not too bulky.
I sat on a friend’s couch one evening enjoying a brew and some tasty curry dish I can’t remember the name to. A friend across the room noticed my wool sweater, offered a compliment and unknowingly began a chain of events in my life.
Friend across the room: “What type of wool is it?”
Now very uncomfortable flaunt-er of said sweater: “I don’t know, I never really looked at the tag. I just throw it on.”
Friend sitting next to me: “If it’s that soft, is it Marino?”
(Inner monologue: “There’s no way I could’ve afforded a Marino wool sweater at the time I purchased this and why isn’t it itchy? What am I wearing?”)
Hesitant, uneasy response: “Uh, you wanna check?”
(Cold fingers fumbling at the back of my neck.)
Friend: “Oh, it’s not Marino wool, it’s Acrylic wool. Yes, yes that’s a very nice wool sweater you got there.”
I instantly felt betrayed. The sweater never lied to me. It never claimed to be anything more than what it was. I assumed, “If it looks like wool, it must be wool.” It was my own lack of desire to look deeper that kept me from the truth, so I can’t blame the sweater, it didn’t really do anything to deceive me. I just simply hadn’t asked the obvious question though all the signs were there.
This stupid sweater led me to examine every relationship in my life more deeply than I had before. Realizing that I take people, like the sweater, for face value, I began to see the qualities that make up those I interact with. I started to see people for who they really are.
Some friends I found desperately needed to be handled on delicate cycles while others do quite well on high heat. I’ve ended up parting with a few who had no real substance and, on the opposite end, I’ve gained some really great friendships with people I never would have expected. It hasn’t been easy, I wish relationships came with ‘care instructions’, but learning to look for the fabrics that make up a being has taught me a lot.
I haven’t been able to forgive the sweater though. I came home that night, threw it in the washer to rid it of the curry smell, threw it in the dryer (this was a first as I was so careful not to dry the wool sweater before), and threw it in a drawer. I didn’t wear it again all winter.
I had a wool sweater once. Now all I have is a sweater.
[originally posted May 2006, updated for this post]
Private Letter.
I wrote you the other day but I’ll never mail this letter. In it I bare my heart and reveal everything I feel about you.
I sealed the letter in a purple envelope, addressed and stamped it. It sits on my desk now. I remember what it says; I remember how I smiled while writing it. I wanted you to be encouraged by the thoughts a person can hold for you.
I wanted to give you strength for the fight you’re up against. You’d read it and tell me I’m wrong and you’re “fine”. You always do try to be so tough.
Despite your display on the outside, I knew inside you’d be thanking me for the words you needed most to hear.
I’ll never mail this letter. There’s no need to. This letter is addressed to me.
