I had a friend. He was just that, a friend. We did everything together. Literally. I could walk right in his house and wake him up so we could go get breakfast. I could fall asleep on his couch. His home felt like my home. I was more comfortable there than where I was living at the time. His casa was my casa. He was my rock when I needed one; which at that point in time was 24/7. He was my encourager, my own personal cheerleader. He pushed me to do better, to be better. He made me want to be a better me. We could talk for hours. Literally hours. We talked about happy things, sad things, life, kids, the future, the past. We traveled together, worked together, played together, dreamt together.
What were we?
We didn’t concern ourselves with that. Everyone else was very concerned. All the time.
Is he your boyfriend? Your best friend? Your friend with some benefits? Are you clinging to him because you hope he wants you? What will you do if one of you starts dating?
I don’t know. I really have no idea. Maybe everyone else got in my head or maybe they didn’t get in it enough. I really have no idea.
What I do know is this: people come into your life when they’re meant too. I was in one of the darkest places I had ever been in my life and I didn’t even know it. He held me up. He was my life jacket when I was in the middle of the ocean. At midnight. Surrounded by starving sharks.
Feelings, emotions, sadness, a desire to be loved and wanted and needed made me crazy. I lost my life partner. I lost my husband. I lost my family. I had lost friends. My house, my job. He kept me safe. He kept me alive.
Holy pressure! That’s a lot to put on one person. Of course that will push someone away. Duh! No one can be that responsible for someone else’s life. No one.
The thought of losing him like I had lost everything else was unbearable. I lost it. Literally. I recently learned that I actually scared him. Me. I scared him. The person who meant so much to me. I don’t know if he thought I would try to kidnap him and keep him in a bottle all to myself or if he thought I was going to harass him every hour of the day. Probably a little of both.
The thing is, I didn’t believe in myself. This being single and alone thing scared the heck out of me. By clinging to him I didn’t have to deal with what was really going on in my world. I had hit below rock bottom and I wasn’t coping. I wasn’t dealing with it. At all. I also know this: people walk out of your life when their part in your story is over.
I lost him too. Obviously. I suffocated him. My drama and my world was too much for anyone to deal with. Even me. Why would anyone else willingly stay in the center of that? I went crazy and I lost him too.
God knows what he’s doing. I prayed for my old life – please give me my husband back. Please God, I can’t be alone. I can’t do this. Please just give me back my old life. I can’t be a mom and I can’t work and pay all my bills and fix my house and dinner and deal with my divorce. I can’t. I can’t do it. I need my friend right now. I need him back. I can’t breathe without him. Please. I need someone. I cannot be alone. I might die. Seriously.
God didn’t give me any of those things. None of them.
Thank You Lord
He always had the best intentions. One of the first gifts he gave me was a toolbox. With tools. Because he knew I could use them to “fix” things myself. When the kids and I were ready to move into our home I used my tools. I fixed things. I cried a lot, but my tears would stop. I was breathing. I was living. I could do it. I can do it.
My bed that once felt so big and lonely is now super comfy and I prefer the space.
That friend and I found our way again. We aren’t where we were. I don’t know if we ever will be. I believe that it will work out the way that it’s meant. Whatever that may be. I am content these days not knowing what it was or what it will be or even what everyone else labeled us as. None of that is relevant to me or my life. None of that changes any of the feelings, emotions, the bond or connection that we had. It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t something I had ever experienced before and by trying to Label Us pieces of that time get stolen. I choose to take it as it was. To me. What is in my memories and my heart can’t ever be stolen; so that is where I keep my most precious moments.
He’s still an encourager and one of my personal cheerleaders, but I yell much louder now.