Song of the moment: Death White Lies
Spent quite some time on the phone with Squeaks last night. Listening to him rips my heart out (yes, I have a heart, try not to faint). He reduced me to tears again as I listened to him talk about his self-esteem issues and his broken heart and his utter disgust with himself. It breaks my heart because I will never, ever get him to see the amazing, beautiful person I see when I look at him (flaws and all). I don’t see him this way because I am his friend- I am his friend because of who I see when I look at him.
Hearing him like this and being unable to do anything is the worst. I cannot stand being helpless, and to watch someone I love suffer the way he is suffering… I wish I could take it all away. I wish I could mend his hurt. I wish I could open his eyes and teach him to love himself again. But I can’t do that. I can’t fix anything- all I can do is be there and help him pick up the pieces when he falls apart. That’s what friends are for.
I am not a good friend. I’m not. I’m a selfish, spiteful bitch with an overinflated idea of duty and honor. That’s all. I am not a good friend. I hate myself for feeling the way I do right now- the part of me that wants to run and not deal with the broken heap that is my best friend.
Maybe the mark of a good friend is not the person who looks at you when you are a shivering wreck and wants to help. Maybe, instead, it’s the person who sees you there, at your worst, who wants to leave, who would rather be anywhere else, but they stay with you, because they love you. For no other reason than that. Through the obligations that love puts upon them, they stay.
If that’s the case, maybe I’m not such a bad friend after all.
In any case, I know where I will be tonight. Do I wish it were otherwise? Of course. But, if Paul and I are ever to become something (which, honestly, is still a pretty slim chance), we can wait a day. He would eventually have to come to terms with my older, deeper love for Sean anyway- the bonds of a friendship so strong that it’s shaped who I am as a person (the more I think about that, the more scary/beautiful it really is).
So tonight, I go to the metro Detroit area. And I hang out in the house of my dearest friend’s father, surrounded by the majority of my family here at MSU. And I will drink and celebrate. And, when the time inevitably comes that Sean needs me, I will bundle up against the elements, take him for a walk, and let him talk some more. And try, in my limited capacity, to help ease the pain, even slightly. To be the shoulder he needs to cry on. And I won’t think about where I’d rather be. I won’t think about who I want to be with. I will think of nothing but my dear Squeaks and what he needs from me.
And I’ll try to be a better friend than I think I really am.
Bonus link of the day: And now, to break up this emotional post, I give you hilarity. Enjoy.
Epistula Rasa 