My friend is not happy. There were certainly a few bursts of tears here and there. This place reminded her of him. That place was where they had their first date. This other place was their last date. I tried, I really tried, to just listen and be there. I tried to talk in a soft voice and encourage her to be brave.
Here are some things I discovered about myself. I love my friend, the way you must love a sister, but sometimes I don't like her. I can imagine if we met for the first time in our lives now I would find her shallow and a little annoying. I know she's not shallow because I know so much of her history. I know she has to have a lot of pain inside from past situations that I was witness to in her life. If I didn't know these things about her I would find her as deep as a puddle. That's what she is showing the rest of the world, a perfect surface smooth as glass. She is full of smiles and is so generous to everyone, but I don't think she lets very many people see any damage or pain she has in there.
Here is something else I know about myself, sometimes my timing is impeccable. When I arrived I realized my friend had been at work all day and had not been home yet. Therefore she was as sober as she was going to be for the rest of the weekend. I took that opportunity to tell her, gently, that sometimes when she smokes too much she gets a little hard to be around. I told her the truth, that she gets totally manic when she's really high, and I don't know what to do with her when she's like that. So I gently asked her to remember that over the weekend and try to keep the pot smoking down a bit. I reminded her that I don't smoke, and I wasn't going to be drinking very much either. I think she heard me. I mean, she didn't NOT smoke, but she appeared to be trying to keep it minimal. I'm hoping I planted a seed at least.
We also talked about therapy. This was later in the weekend. I told her how therapy saved my life four years ago. I told her how therapy saved my marriage more recently. I told her how I can quiet the chatter in my head now, without alcohol. I told her quite a few stories about recent events in my life, and how hubby and I would have imploded if it had not been for therapy and learning how to communicate. I told her I never could have gotten over Pirate Boy without help. I couldn't do any of it alone.
I hope this may have planted another seed.
I see so many things in her that are the way I used to be. I see her clinging to the past. I see her burying her feelings in marijuana (and she drinks a bit too, but never as bad as me). I see her unhappy with herself...weight, hair, skin, even though she's absolutely lovely. She's thin and pretty and has huge blue eyes and long long eyelashes. Perfect teeth and a tiny waist and ample breasts, a gorgeous smile, she even has a dimple in her cheek.
She asks "what's wrong with me?" when it comes to men, relationships. I don't have an answer for her. I could hazard a few guesses, but I'm no therapist. Maybe it's the pot that makes her inaccessible. Maybe she's looking for the wrong kind of guy. Maybe she's dismissing a whole bunch of potential suitors based on looks and affluence. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
I'd love for her to see a therapist and dig around in there for herself, pull apart the hurt from the past and begin something new. I'd love for her to put down the bong and just stand up and be the woman she was meant to be. Those are the things I want for her. A full life, a quiet mind, love in her heart.
Man, it took me three days to write this post.
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