Where are you?
Why, in the expanse of the whole universe, is it so difficult for me to find one local friend to whom I could pour out the contents of my soul? Why is it that when I feel like everything is hopeless and I can’t take another breath without collapsing, that I can’t find one pair of arms to hold me and one shoulder to cry on? So many people love me, and I’m so very fortunate, and grateful for that. But none of them are HERE and if they aren’t HERE it’s so much more difficult to reach out and ask for comfort. I have to think about what time zone they’re in, and if the kids are in bed, and worse.. I have to use words. I can hide behind those. I can present whatever facade I want when I’m texting. I can wait until I’ve bawled my eyes out and pulled myself together before I make a phone call.
If I had a best friend right here, I wouldn’t be able to hide. I don’t want to hide. I’m willing to be vulnerable and let someone in like that. But no one I know wants a connection like that. I’m so willing to drop everything and be there for you when your heart is breaking and you need to get out of your own head. I’m so willing to be real, and invite that kind of transparency, and open my heart up and risk that kind of trust. But I can’t find my kind of people here. Anywhere.
I’ve had such amazing moments with my far-away friends: lightbulb moments at conferences that become skipped training sessions in the middle of the day. With new-old friends back home that after years apart finally want to be closer, dinner that becomes dessert that becomes a heart to heart talk that lasts into the night. Spontaneous connection between those who want to be open. All the time wishing we lived closer, trying to keep the attachment strong by daily use of social media and texting. I cherish all of them, those who have given me belief in myself and confidence in my ability to love with my whole heart. I know what I have to give. And if it’s locked up inside, what good does it do?
Oh my friend… where are you? Is it because of where I live? Is it because of the ridiculously high concentration of superficial people I have to search through? Or is it me? Am I the one hiding and not being available? I hope not. I don’t want to be. I have a lot of practice at being closed off. But not because it’s what I want. I don’t want to be cold and distant. But you have to make me believe you want to let me in.
One day. One day I’ll have a best friend here. And I’ll be a good best friend, too. I know I will. I’ll be so grateful one day to meet someone who appreciates the shelter I can give, and is willing to give it back, too.
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