Sometimes the changes are purely circumstantial. Real, deep, time-proven regard and commitment seldom changes. Sometimes it just takes a while....days, weeks, months, occasionally years....for the cycles of life to sync up again.
I think, sometimes, we want to believe the worst, because at least then there's a 'remedy' (getting over it, moving on, etc.). Whereas the remedy for 'drifting' is simply to wait and be patient, and trust. Heaven knows I usually assume, when friends drift away for a while, that it's 'indicative of a bigger problem.' In my case, if perhaps not yours, it's a form of fear speaking, an arrogant need to restructure the situation into something controllable and managable, something I can react to, as opposed to a situational reality that simply has to be weathered. It takes a certain humility to let go of the fear and twinges of bitterness and accept that it really isn't personal. Again, speaking strictly for myself, I tend to be arrogant, self-centered, and paranoid, albeit with intent to be a good person. I find it very difficult to believe that others' decisions, particularly about time with me, may be influenced by other priorities than strictly the standing of our relationship. (I had go-rounds with John Boulton years ago about that, 'til I finally figured out that I was being a jerk and discounting his life stresses.)
Again, this is an observation about myself, not about you.
And then, I suppose we don't know, and don't always appreciate, the silent measures others take to 'stay close' when it's all they can do. It amazes me, the number of people who read my journal even when I never have time to post in it. It amazes me how often people ask about me, pagemail me, talk to others about me. I don't see it, but occasionally, I hear about it and simply marvel. One wonders how many of your 'drifted' friends read your journal religiously and smile, grateful for one small way to feel close to you despite the circumstantial distances. Or thumb through your stories, or photos, or memories, and wonder if you remember *them*.
You are loved, my friend, even if you don't feel it right now. You are someone no one could forget. I certainly know that I never have, and never will. Even the three years we barely spoke in the mid-Nineties. Life took me away, not intent. I know that no matter what happens in my life, you will always be there in the center of it. In absentia or living next door, those are simply the circumstances.
Have faith, coyote. Sometimes it all hits the fan at once. You are valued, you are thought about, you are loved. That much I think I can say, on behalf of everyone who calls themself your friend.
And don't forget, if you do make it to San Jose, to come down here for a long weekend and let me introduce you to the desert.
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momijizukamori
no subject
Date: 2002-08-30 08:35 (UTC)I think, sometimes, we want to believe the worst, because at least then there's a 'remedy' (getting over it, moving on, etc.). Whereas the remedy for 'drifting' is simply to wait and be patient, and trust. Heaven knows I usually assume, when friends drift away for a while, that it's 'indicative of a bigger problem.' In my case, if perhaps not yours, it's a form of fear speaking, an arrogant need to restructure the situation into something controllable and managable, something I can react to, as opposed to a situational reality that simply has to be weathered. It takes a certain humility to let go of the fear and twinges of bitterness and accept that it really isn't personal. Again, speaking strictly for myself, I tend to be arrogant, self-centered, and paranoid, albeit with intent to be a good person. I find it very difficult to believe that others' decisions, particularly about time with me, may be influenced by other priorities than strictly the standing of our relationship. (I had go-rounds with John Boulton years ago about that, 'til I finally figured out that I was being a jerk and discounting his life stresses.)
Again, this is an observation about myself, not about you.
And then, I suppose we don't know, and don't always appreciate, the silent measures others take to 'stay close' when it's all they can do. It amazes me, the number of people who read my journal even when I never have time to post in it. It amazes me how often people ask about me, pagemail me, talk to others about me. I don't see it, but occasionally, I hear about it and simply marvel. One wonders how many of your 'drifted' friends read your journal religiously and smile, grateful for one small way to feel close to you despite the circumstantial distances. Or thumb through your stories, or photos, or memories, and wonder if you remember *them*.
You are loved, my friend, even if you don't feel it right now. You are someone no one could forget. I certainly know that I never have, and never will. Even the three years we barely spoke in the mid-Nineties. Life took me away, not intent. I know that no matter what happens in my life, you will always be there in the center of it. In absentia or living next door, those are simply the circumstances.
Have faith, coyote. Sometimes it all hits the fan at once. You are valued, you are thought about, you are loved. That much I think I can say, on behalf of everyone who calls themself your friend.
And don't forget, if you do make it to San Jose, to come down here for a long weekend and let me introduce you to the desert.