Friday, July 11, 2014

Blind to the Beauty of Friends



Solitude. A word with so much inner meaning, so much connotation of both neutral and negative regards. A word that depending on where you are fixed in your life’s journey, or how you are currently viewing your circumstances, can hold many different faces. In solitude you can find peace. In solitude you can find growth. In solitude you can find independence and strength. In solitude you can find great depression. In solitude you can lose hope. In solitude you can lose yourself. Solitude, a noun, meaning a state or situation of being alone; in a lonely or uninhabited place. The definition itself even sounds somber. For how can one be entirely isolated and not feel empty? How can one be completely solitary and not encompass seclusion? How can one be vastly unaccompanied and not harbor reclusiveness? Being alone also has many facets, for one can be physically unattended but feel the love and care of others even without tangible correspondence. They are alone but not lonely. One can be in a room surrounded by many faces while still feeling entirely destitute and withdrawn. They are lonesome but not alone. One can even have people, close people, telling them they are loved and cared for and still feel companionless. They are blind.

I am blind.

For I walk through this world with eyes closed to the beauty around me. The beauty in friendships, the beauty in love, the beauty in empathetic people. As my heart has built up walls protecting itself, it has also closed off my eyes from seeing this world, and the people in it, the way I should. I have become blind and hardened. I have become selfish; Rejecting the open hands and offers for solace in my own pride and fear. I have let the tear-filled past shape my lonely present, in turn tarnishing my ever changing future. I have molded the perimeter set around my being with such pessimism and distaste for sympathetic interactions that I am unable to differentiate between those who actually love and those who despitefully use, leaving me to do the one thing I do best –run away. I have picked up this one and only self-defense mechanism and it is escape; harmful to those who care and beneficial to those who don’t. I am so afraid of being vulnerable and simply just existing that I disappear before anyone can see me in that place. Even the ones who want to know me fully and desire to understand and nurture my vulnerability. 

The truth is everyone has people who care about them. The people who know exactly who you are, and what makes you a psychotic human being. The people who see all of your flaws and know exactly how poorly human nature has tainted your existence, but love you anyway. The people who despite all of your short comings lay by your side all night long just to ensure your sorrows don’t swallow up your existence. The people who wipe your tears on your front lawn while you wail about how unfair death is to the people left behind. The people who draw sparkler shapes in memory of your dad all over your court. The people who sternly tell you that life goes on and to buck up, providing you with a harsh reminder that they love you because you desperately needed it. The people who bring you taco bell and ice cream at midnight because your depression has caused you to not eat. The people who text you daily to make sure you remember to smile. The long lost friend who resurfaces in your life, providing you with hour long phone calls about what has happened since we were 14. The ones who foster the positivity to make work go by so much faster. The ones who tell jokes to build up office morale. The roommates that watch chick flicks with you, willingly revoking all of their manliness just because you want to see them. The people who sit by your side and hold your hand through every hospital trip and doctor’s appointment. The people who take you to the most beautiful spot on the beach because you need to remember beauty even for a moment. The people who remind you that you are beautiful, and constantly compliment the way you smell and your pretty hair –even if you don’t recognize it yourself. The people who give forehead kisses when they are most needed. The people who cry at the thought of losing you to giving up on this world; who care so much about you that having you not recognize their love brings them to tears –even if you have only known them for a couple months. The people who open up to you and let you have a piece of their heart and mind. The people who through all of your insanity have stood by you because they know your character and they know who you long to be. The people who know you better than you know yourself and see the worth even when you don’t. The people who even though they rarely ever pay attention to their phone spend two entire days in virtual correspondence with you to help field through your sorrows. The people who are patient with you in all of your moodiness and inability to love completely. The people who have not given up on you when it feels like the whole world is considering it.

For even in my blindness, I see.

I see your love and I am trying so diligently to recognize and reciprocate it. The truth is, every day I feel alone. I know you all are there for me but the solitude has set in. I am working so hard to get past it. Just know, that I see and am grateful for all you do for me. I am sorry for my short comings. I am sorry I run away from you. I can only promise to try better one day at a time.

It is important that we do not forget the people who are no longer standing by our sides. The ones who did give up on us. For every person enters your life with the capacity to change it. Some are meant to be there for a short time and alter it then, others are the true givers who stay for the vast journey that is your existence. I appreciate those who came and went, for I am certain that I gained something from them. The ones who showed you what it meant to take spontaneous drives at four in the morning just to think. The one who saved your life when you couldn’t hold on. The one who made you promise to never give up. The one who stayed up many nights listening to you vent about your love drama with his brother, and genuinely trying to help. The ones who helped you remember who you were when you had forgotten. The ones who tried to fight your stubbornness and make you go to the doctor. The ones who offered distraction from sadness with best friend movie dates. The ones who told you how it was with such brutal honesty that your life would be altered forever. The one who broke your heart and taught you to forgive. The ones who held your hand and carried you to your bed when you couldn’t walk. The ones who made you laugh and sang to you. The ones who took you into their home and offered you refuge from the world. The one who showed you exactly how beautiful brains can be. The one with the kind eyes. 

The ones who taught you the benefit of despondency and numbness –how advantageous barriers can be.


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