I am so frustrated. There is a particular individual whom I have recently become friends with. I met him through his cousin who is also my friend. We started talking online frequently and I found out that he's a really great guy. He's had a horrible past and made some bad decisions, but he's completely turned his life around. He's the kind of person that volunteers to do community service a couple times a week, just because. He's really intelligent and we share similar tastes.
During our conversations, he has a habit of putting me off guard by asking questions out of the blue. "What's your earliest childhood memory? What is your favorite fruit? What are your hopes and dreams for the future?" He answers all of my questions, so I try to answer most of his. He's always there to talk to and he's good at giving advice I need to hear. He doorbell ditched a cheesecake, a cd, flowers, and a free hug coupon on my door because I was having a rough time and he wanted me to have a good day.
Sounds great, doesn't it? Not so much.. He decided to admit that he likes me very much, and thinks he's falling for me.
This is infuriating to me. I could swear that I've done nothing to solicit such attentions. This happens fairly often. I meet someone nice, we develop a friendship that I care about, and they decide to care in different ways. I don't want a silly relationship, I don't want a crush, I don't want a boyfriend. I want to make friendships that last.
We're trying to remain friends, but I don't know how that can work. I think I'm really messed up in the head. I'm still so scarred from Ben brutalizing my instincts. He told me he was perfectly fine with being platonic friends and in the same breath told me that I was all he thought about and if he could ever hope to wish for it, all he wanted was a future with me. When I tried to end a friendship that was so incredibly destructive, he faked psychotic break downs that only I could possibly fix.
Coming from that kind of background, I am really struggling to believe this 'just friends' thing. I'm trying not to give up on friendships in general. I don't want to hurt anyone else. Is it right for me to feel guilty for not caring about someone the same way they do?
If it came down to it, I probably could be comfortable with this guy. In an arranged marriage type of situation we'd get along great. But if I cam going to be sealed to someone forever, then I want to fall in love with that person every day of it. I want to make someone happy. I want to Be happy. I'd like to build a life with someone that will still make my heart flutter when we're old and gray. I want to be the kind of person that my sweetheart is looking for.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
RIP Timothy Tilley 05.12.1989 -11.07.2010
It had always been my biggest fear, to lose someone that way, to not be there for someone I cared about when they needed me most. It's ripping me apart, but I will never let it happen again.
I can see him there, on the edge of the cliff, phone in his hand, asking me why no one saw the nobility in suicide anymore. We talk about seppuku, the ritual suicide of the samurai, the warrior's way out. He tells me about mass ceremonial suicides using poisoned wines, religious fanatics with bombs giving their lives for the promise of virgins in the next, volunteers for human sacrifice to arcane Gods. They can do it, why can't he?
I tell him he is pretty stupid sometimes, for being so brilliant. Doesn't he know how much I care, how much I enjoy having him in my life?
I can see him, wind tousled hair, standing there for a moment longer, hesitating, and finally stepping back saying, "Yes, you're right. And anyway.. I always lack the courage to jump."
Crying silently with relief, I tell him that I'm proud of him, that the courage is in living and I know he's courageous enough for that, and could he please come see me and give me a hug? I need to know he's really alright.
I taught him how to play ninja at an institute activity. I think we were both a little surprised at how well he did. It was so great to see him with a reckless smile on his face as he was caught up in the game. When the music started, I taught him the Boot Scootin' Boogy and the Sunflower.
He taught me how to find the truth inside of myself, and how to trust in it again. He believed in me so much, but never believed a single compliment I paid him, never believed how grateful I was for his friendship. ....How grateful I Am for his friendship. Tim continues to teach me, painful though the lesson is.
I remember teaching him how to pray, challenging him to do so everyday for a week, and extracting a promise that he would. I told him to ask to know that God loved him. I knew He did, but I wanted Tim to. A week later he confessed that he hadn't tried after the first night ended with him cursing, throwing out accusations, and asking God "Why?" I wept inside and begged him to try again. To my knowledge, he never did.
We talked often about God, sharing our different views. I tried to explain the loving father and his perfect son that I knew. He wanted to believe that they existed, but said everything in his life pointed to the contrary. He was so broken and scarred, so bare of hope, so small.
I knew what he needed. I knew only one person could help him. I wanted to introduce him to the missionaries so badly, but I was scared to tell him that the Lord didn't approve of his bisexuality. I was scared to ask him to change even though I knew he had to change to be able to be truly happy forever. His lifestyle obviously wasn't making him happy as it was. I was scared he'd push me away with everyone else.
We made plans, for when I got back from camp. I was worried, but I didn't think he wouldn't be there when I got back. He had been trying to get help. He had been meeting new people and making friends. It's excruciating to be wrong.
Timothy, I am so sorry that I didn't call when I needed you most. Christ loved you enough to ask you to change, I'm sorry I didn't know how to. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, to stop you again. I don't know what happens to suicide victims. I can only hope that you've found peace and truth. I can only pray that I'll get a chance to beg your forgiveness. I miss you.
I can see him there, on the edge of the cliff, phone in his hand, asking me why no one saw the nobility in suicide anymore. We talk about seppuku, the ritual suicide of the samurai, the warrior's way out. He tells me about mass ceremonial suicides using poisoned wines, religious fanatics with bombs giving their lives for the promise of virgins in the next, volunteers for human sacrifice to arcane Gods. They can do it, why can't he?
I tell him he is pretty stupid sometimes, for being so brilliant. Doesn't he know how much I care, how much I enjoy having him in my life?
I can see him, wind tousled hair, standing there for a moment longer, hesitating, and finally stepping back saying, "Yes, you're right. And anyway.. I always lack the courage to jump."
Crying silently with relief, I tell him that I'm proud of him, that the courage is in living and I know he's courageous enough for that, and could he please come see me and give me a hug? I need to know he's really alright.
I taught him how to play ninja at an institute activity. I think we were both a little surprised at how well he did. It was so great to see him with a reckless smile on his face as he was caught up in the game. When the music started, I taught him the Boot Scootin' Boogy and the Sunflower.
He taught me how to find the truth inside of myself, and how to trust in it again. He believed in me so much, but never believed a single compliment I paid him, never believed how grateful I was for his friendship. ....How grateful I Am for his friendship. Tim continues to teach me, painful though the lesson is.
I remember teaching him how to pray, challenging him to do so everyday for a week, and extracting a promise that he would. I told him to ask to know that God loved him. I knew He did, but I wanted Tim to. A week later he confessed that he hadn't tried after the first night ended with him cursing, throwing out accusations, and asking God "Why?" I wept inside and begged him to try again. To my knowledge, he never did.
We talked often about God, sharing our different views. I tried to explain the loving father and his perfect son that I knew. He wanted to believe that they existed, but said everything in his life pointed to the contrary. He was so broken and scarred, so bare of hope, so small.
I knew what he needed. I knew only one person could help him. I wanted to introduce him to the missionaries so badly, but I was scared to tell him that the Lord didn't approve of his bisexuality. I was scared to ask him to change even though I knew he had to change to be able to be truly happy forever. His lifestyle obviously wasn't making him happy as it was. I was scared he'd push me away with everyone else.
We made plans, for when I got back from camp. I was worried, but I didn't think he wouldn't be there when I got back. He had been trying to get help. He had been meeting new people and making friends. It's excruciating to be wrong.
Timothy, I am so sorry that I didn't call when I needed you most. Christ loved you enough to ask you to change, I'm sorry I didn't know how to. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, to stop you again. I don't know what happens to suicide victims. I can only hope that you've found peace and truth. I can only pray that I'll get a chance to beg your forgiveness. I miss you.
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