Meaning and Rules of Friendship

All I ask for, and all I have ever wanted, are friends who support me and stand beside me, even if they don't always agree with me. And, of course, a little respect. So, here are some of the things that I have noticed I look for in a truly trusted friend:

A true friend recognizes and accepts that I can have more than one true friend.

A true friend supports and stands beside me, even when they don't agree with me.

A true friend believes in me, and encourages me to be the best I can be, and better.

A true friend knows that just because I grow and change does not mean that I am going to outgrow the friendship.

A true friend accepts that I cannot and will not, and honestly do not want to, spend every minute with them. Or even every day. Sometimes every week. They recognize that I am not a people person, and while I love their company, I need a great deal of me time. 

A true friend accepts me as I am and does not try to change me.


And, since I put what a friend is to me, allow me to do the flip side. Allow me to give a few "rules"... things which, if not followed, will quickly make me stop trusting you as a friend:

1) You do NOT tell me who to trust. I am perfectly capable of making these decisions by myself, and if I make a mistake it is mine to make.

2) You do NOT criticize or belittle a friend of mine in an attempt to get me to dislike this friend. And you definitely do NOT do this belittling to my kids to get THEM to also dislike the person.

3) You do NOT tell me I am not capable of doing something, or that I should not be doing something (unless of course I am doing something that will actually physically harm me). I am an adult and again, perfectly capable of making my own decisions.

4) You do NOT insult my belief in God, or my desire to serve Him, or the ways in which I choose to serve Him. I have never told any of my friends/family what to believe (or how to serve), and I deserve the same respect.

5) You do NOT try to manipulate me. Anything that comes across as "if you really loved me you'd do this" is going to make me immediately do the complete opposite of what you want.


Thank you, and good night.

Dear Matthew

I know I'm a couple days early, but Happy Birthday. I can't believe you'd be turning 30 in just a couple days. I still can't believe you're not here to turn 30.

It's been almost 6 years since you left; although for me, it's been so much longer. I never got a chance to know the teenage you, or the adult you. To me, you were (and are) still that little 7 year old boy still wanting me to sing him to sleep. You're still that smiling, front-tooth missing boy who could always make me laugh. You're still 7 years old, catching frogs and turtles for pets. You're still that silly little guy wanting to dress up in my dresses, and put on my makeup. You're still that excited little man, running out to the living room Christmas Eve after Santa came, or on your birthday, or Easter morning. You're still the patient boy who put up with me reading my Astronomy book, or English Comp books, to put you to sleep because I had to catch up on my homework. You're still the little goon who would hide in my pile of teddy bears. You're still the little lover, always willing to give me a huge hug to brighten my day.

I wish I could blame our parents for those lost years, but I know I should have tried harder. I wanted to. I hope you were able to understand that. I hope you were able to know that I truly loved you, and love you still.

There's a hole in my heart that can never be truly filled... not with anything other than memories. But, they are good memories. And they help me get through times like this, when I'm lost and feeling alone, and missing you and your brother. And, the knowledge that you finally found the peace we were (are) lacking helps, too. 

I'd write more - and most likely will in the days to come. But for now, I need to stop writing as it's getting difficult to see the screen.

I love you. And I miss you.

The Battle

It all started with a simple tattoo suggestion. Well, ok, the story really didn’t start there; nor was the tattoo suggestion all that simple. But the story can’t be told, and without the story the tattoo suggestion does indeed appear quite simple.

As I wandered off in search of supplies, tears found an escape. My heart was suddenly overwhelmed with fear and guilt, hope and love, anticipation and regret, joy and peace. The night continued in cautiously friendly hopeful bliss; and yet the chaos within my mind continued, unspoken and unnoticed.

As the evening came to a close, and I sat within the darkness, it became obvious the war had suddenly turned one sided; the hope and love and joy and peace slipped silently into oblivion. The battle was over. The destruction was suddenly clear and unavoidable. The reality behind that one little tattoo was apparent.

The story was complete, and yet was only a fragment.

Beloved

I can still hear that voice - that ever wise voice - insisting I am beloved
I see the words flash before my eyes
And yet they do not penetrate
Especially now.

This ache grows stronger - too strong for me to fight
I cannot eat, or sleep, or write
I cannot dream, or cry
I cannot believe

Beloved
It is such a lie
And yet I have no right to proclaim this
I have no right to express this pain
I have no right to pity

I try to hide it - those wonderful masks I once wore dug out again
But I should not be wearing those
I should not be allowed even a false smile
I should not be

My suffering grows - suffering I should feel but not show
I am so weak now I can barely stand
And I shouldn't stand
I should be kicked down

My emptiness grows - anything once believed to be beloved dissipating
I am alone
By my own doing, I have nothing left
I deserve nothing more

I desperately want to cry out - plead for mercy, for anything
But my voice must remain silenced
and so in silence I pray
For beloved death

Regret

I don't regret holding your hand
I regret letting go of a friendship
I don't regret the feel of your lips
I regret no longer feeling your comforting embrace
I don't regret the spiritual intimacy
I regret the rift that's grown
I don't regret trusting you
I regret the brokenness
I don't regret caring
I regret the hurt

Sanity/Insanity

Sitting next to sanity
in the light of night,
it maneuvers closer, brushing against me.

The warmth is oddly comforting
as it spreads.
The strange comfort frightens me
and I slink away
only to find moments later
it brushing against me yet again.

Did I move towards it
unknowingly?
Or did it drift in
momentarily unnoticed
but not unwelcome?

I find myself shifting
moving closer, needing the warmth
again;
Desiring the sanity,
Desiring all the chaos it promises.

As if sensing my withering hestitation
the sanity pulls away
playing games
Tempting, Teasing, Denying.

A tug o' war raging
between peace and turmoil
order and chaos
reality and dreams.

A war in which even should
Sanity win, the prize is
Insanity.