2 January 2020
We don’t have a tender relationship in a common sense, we don’t share hugs or warm words. I sometimes wonder what you see in our friendship, what you see in me as an addition to your life, and if we would still be friends if I left. You, this, is one of the reasons why I don’t leave.
Taking us, me, as your friend is a choice for you and this has an impact on me that you are not even aware of. It’s not the things we do or talk about, it’s not the time we spend. It’s that I know that as long as you want to be my friend, I am doing ok being who I am. You don’t need me in your life, you want me there.
Your occasional calls to take me out with you, I value every single one of them and I do so because I know they are not random calls that you send out to everyone. I know that you choose to share time with me in those moments that are so religiously yours. You don’t let a lot of people into your comfort zone. When you make someone your friend, you hand over respect for you. You trust that we will nurture that respect. A form of respect that is overwhelming and that makes one understand that a friendship with you is really something to be valued.
You push me by not giving me the choice to give in to my head. People call you rude, yet, you are actually more sensitive to bullshit than anyone I know. You filter very well when it’s time to shut up and just be there, as a friend. Your silent support through my heartbreaks when no one else understood, through my unreasonabilities and my lost tracks felt warmer and more encouraging than any words exchanged.
The rare moments when you share what you think about me feel like light falling into a dark room after decades of the shutters being closed. You know my darkness and you know what is needed to remind me of my light. When you say that my lack of confidence and self-worth upset you because you know I am better than what I think, because you can see what I am able to do and that it annoys you that I don’t allow myself to go there because I’m too scared. Too scared to face what I’m able to do.
What you say is profoundly simple, profoundly honest, profoundly impactful because so profoundly rare.
To know that you are not judging me because you know who I am and how I function .. that loyalty is love. You make me feel loved regardless of my erratic choices, you make me feel that I’m going to be fine. You, shouting at me, means I’m improving. What I’m scared of is your indifference, because it indicates that I´m on the wrong path.
You are only rude when you know it’s one’s self-pity, one’s need to listen to their own moaning, when it’s not real. You don’t like to waste time on anything unreal.
You have guided me through becoming who I am, and in retrospect, it seems like you saw that person in me long before I did — and I still barely see her. You are like that dad teaching the kid to learn how to ride a bike. Not holding them anymore, but because they’d fall the second when you tell them they are on their own, you stay close, secretly smiling behind their back because you knew anyway. And seeing people win over their fears is what makes you happy. For you, failing is a foreseeable fact; you avoid it if it’s in the forecast, but if it’s not, you don’t allow for doubt.
More than anyone I have ever met, you have taught me that fear is not an option. Suit up and paddle out, you are not going to drown.
You have to push your boundaries or you won’t improve. You have to be stronger than the ocean.
Always on a mission to get better, to achieve more, to improve, yet, in fact, just on a mission to bring out the things that you see in people, when they don’t even see it themselves.
You would certainly not bail me out of jail. Because if I was in jail, I would very likely be there because I have done something really stupid and you would surely not reward me for it by getting me out.
If I was sitting in the sea though, surrounded by sharks, you would come and get me. Unless you’d know that they are not of the dangerous kind. Then you would shout from the beach to tell me what to do to get out of it myself. But either way, as soon as I reached the shore you would turn around, trudge off, look over your shoulder and grumble: Use your knee.
And when someone speaks your language, they know what that means.
