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Rule #don’tgettooclose
 There are always those guy friends who you feel comfortable with even if it’s just the two of you. I like to call them the Nice Guys. In these kinds of relationships the first yellow flag is that age old debate of whether boys and girls can remain as friends, because everyone knows sooner or later one of the two will start noticing details. Id est: how her eyes crease when she laughs or how his brow furrows together when he’s concentrating. I mean, chances are you’re probably spending a lot of time together just eating, venting, consoling, laughing, etc.

Some of the happiest couples come from these “unexpected” circumstances, the I-married-my-best-friend sort of couples. Good for them, really. I want to marry my best friend eventually.

But I am definitely NOT interested in a relationship past friendship right now. So when a friend solicits more attention or oversteps his bounds a switch goes off in my amygdala and the cold shoulder comes out. I didn’t understand why this was the immediate response until I got a text yesterday.

“I want to though…it’s my choice.”

” -__- do you like spending money on all your underclassmen?”

“nope you’ll be the only one.”

Disgust was my first reaction, even before I could name the emotion. And it’s because I need my space. Maybe I’m too suspicious and can’t accept a generous gesture from a guy, but I know that I want my space. I am loathe to part with it. So before you do any favors for me you should first have one of those late night conversations with me, know my pet peeves, be there for one of my many embarrassing moments. So what have I learned about myself?

I am afraid of people getting close.


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I’m not usually one to get hung up over how much nicer someone is than I am, how much prettier, smarter, funnier, etc. It’s not my thing and never was–I was made this way and you are made that way. End of story, everyone is beautiful. That doesn’t mean I’m done improving, but it does mean that I accept that I’m different.

But suddenly it becomes so easy to measure yourself up to someone when you’re jealous. Where does this jealousy come from? For me it comes from social situations. Maybe I am just totally boring and and as engaging as a block of wood, or maybe the people I hang around are insensitive and total arses for ignoring me regardless of my efforts. Either way I end up feeling like there was some sort of mark that I missed and so was tossed into a reject bin. Pretty low, I know.

And the most ironic thing about this is that I only feel like this when I’m with my school fellowship. I don’t care if it sounds like I’m whining and complaining all the time. It’s not like I haven’t tried to be more a part of the team and believe me when I say that it takes so much effort not to criticize each of them. I’m just so afraid of what’s going to happen when I can’t handle this anymore because I know once every layer of tolerance is gone all that’s left will be anger and action.

So I’ll vent. I’ll cry. I’ll do anything it takes to hide this from all of them because I can’t find a civil way to tell them how much they hurt me. I hope I find a way because they can’t fix a problem they don’t know about.

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June 11, 2012

Two words: Jet lag.

A toddler, who was quiet for perhaps 4 hours of the total 14 hour flight, sat two or three rows ahead of me. The man who I sat next to occasionally forgot the limits of his space and would lean towards me even though he had the window seat. To say the very least, God was challenging my patience and love for 14 hours straight.

The first thing I noticed about the drive back home was how colorful everything is. The sky really is blue and there are forms of plant life and vegetation in vibrant greens and yellows all along the road. This incredibly obvious statement must relate how incredibly monochromatic the city has been, dotted only by the reds, yellows, and greens of traffic lights. It is definitely one thing to look up at a sky burdened with pollutants and theorize its true color, and another to actually see a luminous blue spread out above like a grand painting.

Despite the rough trip back I ended up going to service today and being blessed by the message. In my frayed state I also managed to embarrass myself in front of the whole college ministry. Ha. Ha. But it really has been a while since I saw my friends so the brief meeting was quite a picker-upper.

It’s 4:16 AM and I am not tired.

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Dear You,


You once told me that God gives us some friends only for seasons for a reason.

That was how you concluded our friendship.

But to me you were still my best friend. Even through the bitter days and the anger, to me, you were still my closest friend because we grew spiritually together. Lately I’ve been having flashbacks of our nasty fights, of how one little misunderstanding tore us apart, and how I should have picked up your calls instead of having my mom lie to you that I wasn’t home when you knew I was right there. I rationalized that because you were still immature and still struggling with yourself we’d keep resetting to the original misunderstanding. This I regret.

I know your darkest corners and you know mine, and yet for all that intimacy we’ve just grown apart. Life does that, I guess; it takes you where you set your eyes and sometimes Satan gets in the way of something great and wins. So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I miss everything, but I’m gonna let it all go now. I’m happy for you and I hope she makes you happy, buddy. I’m not jealous–I just always thought I could still be your closest confidant if I just reached out to you. I know for you it was confusing, but for me despite all the raging hormones, back then you were still my brother. I guess God wants us to work in different places and different paces, to bless and be blessed in different ways.

Grow, my friend. Shine and live.

I hope that if we should meet again it would be over froyo and talk of your latest endeavors, Blacksmith.



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