Thursday, October 13, 2011

I Am A Person

Dear Friends,

I love you. 

I am a person and therefore, I make mistakes.  A lot of them. 

I have no filter on my mouth.  My intentions may be good and genuine but my words are sharp.   My heart is big and my capacity for details small.

I miss birthdays and forget to send cards.  I mean to send gifts and don't get around to it.  I plan to do the socially right things, like thank you notes and reciprocal invites and make sure I even up the babysitting and other favors and we all know what they say about good intentions.  That's me. 

It's not that I don't care or don't love you.   I do.

I like to think, and probably I'm wrong, but I like to imagine myself the kind of friend or family that would stop on a dime if you were in real trouble.  You know, crashed your car, house on fire, kid dying, etc.  I like to believe that in those crisis times, I'd be there for you, practical and emotional.  The reality is, I'm probably not that at all. 

I fall into the train of thought that I'm doing something else or something good enough to make the difference ok.  So in my mind, I didn't send a gift on your birthday, but on those days when it's not anything special, I took you out for lunch and laughter. 

Sometimes I give you more credit than you think you should get.  I don't call you daily or hourly in the midst of your emotional crisis because I believe in you.  I believe that you can handle this thing, whatever it is.  I want good things for you and sometimes in life, often times in life, my holding your hand isn't the good thing.  It might feel good, but it isn't the best thing for you. 

And yeah, you're right, I'm not God and I really have no ground to stand on to say what's best for you in your life.  All I can do is make my best guess when I offer advice and I only remotely think you'll take my advice, after all, you didn't ask for it and you have a brain.  I do expect and believe that you'll use your brain.

Sometimes I think my doing something is enough of a recognition of whatever holiday it is that I'm missing.  You know, I didn't send a card or write it on your face book wall before 3PM, so it means I didn't care.  It doesn't.  I probably thought giving you a night without the kids or whatever I did was better than a card. 

I am sorry that I didn't speak your language.  I'm sorry that I spoke to you  my love in my language and not yours.  I guess a "real" friend or a "true" friend would have paid better attention or been more tuned in or more aware of you and what you needed and met you in that place.

So my friends, this is my apology for being a sucky friend, for being that friend that seems like she's always the taker, that one that always is too harsh, always moving too fast, always thinking she knows it all.  The one that always gives advice and never takes it.  The one that talks too much and listens too little.  The one that steps on toes and pushes back.  

I'm sorry.

And in spite of myself, I value you.  I value us.  Your friendship is a big deal to me, even when I treat it like it isn't.  When I screw it up and hurt you, it kills me.

So yeah, in my imperfect sucky way, I love you friend.  Do with it what you will.