It’s Complicated!
When do I decide to tell the truth if it means hurting someone I love? How do I decide to completely detach myself from the kind of pain this act of “honesty” will cause him? What makes me finally look a person in the eyes and say the kind of thing I know will break his heart to pieces? And how can I sit across him and provide disillusionment about the trust he has given and then tell him I am here with him to the very end? How do I convince him that his faith may be on an all time low right now, but somehow, he has to find enough strength to put some of that little faith he has left on me? He has to. He somehow just has to.
Little did I know I was the one whose faith needed a little reinforcing. He just listened without prejudice and without judgment. And he listened to all that I said and all that I felt. God, I miss talking to him like that. Talking to someone who I know doesn’t care what all the others say. One who will not try to look between the lines, but will find what needs to be found nonetheless. He who had always only had to look at me and know that there is something brewing beneath the surface of the calm and aloof facade. He who could read me like a worn book that he has read a thousand times over.
I looked at him, a foot away, and just wanted to hug him and say it will all be okay, but that was never our style. Just a hug would have been more okay, I guess. We never said ‘it will be ok’. We both know it will be. Guess we’re both just strong like that. Months ago I wanted to be his rock, but what I was keeping made it impossible. It would be unthinkable to be there, without him finding out why I wanted to be. Because he can see right through me. Always have, and always will.
I wish I could have just stood back and then hear from him that everything was over. But I had to be there in the scene that would most break his heart. Why, after all these years, should this scene be necessary? I sat back as I listened to the things that proved the person an unworthy recipient of her once most coveted attention. And I am glad it is over. And if the truth is what cements that wall to keep him from being hurt by the same person again, I will gladly mix it, and then build it – tall and strong and imposing. Because that’s the kind of friend I am. It probably had to be crow-barred from under me, but when he asked for it, there was nothing I wanted to do more than save him from a possible lifetime of bullshit. Because he deserves better.
It’s amazing enough that I managed to hold back unkind thoughts in order to be supportive. And it’s even more amazing that I was right all along. I didn’t want to be right! I hoped to God I was wrong and just being overly protective of someone who once had been my rock. I wanted to be the friend who said “ok, do your thing, you’ll be fine”. But God knows what happens in the back of this over active mind.
And God knows how hard it is keeping things from him. Distance had finally become my friend. But standing face to face with him just blows my cover. Something like playing undercover detective with a hot pink feather boa around my neck. If I think about it hard enough, I can roll over the floor just laughing. Me, keep something from him? Hilarious. Freaking punch-me-on-the-stomach-and-then-kill-me-when-that’s-over hilarious. The next time I want to keep a secret from him, I should just leave the country and live in a cave. Since I am picky with food, I guess I’ll just opt for honesty instead. There will only be truth between us.
And I know, somehow, that some shit will come to me after this. In fact there were some that he told me about, of course from her thoughts. And it’s not new shit. We’ve dealt with this shit before. It’s the least of its kind, and it’s the kind that’s now funny to us. So laugh we did, and laugh we will.
It’s complicated. Just like always. And from us, I guess it’s nothing more or less than what is expected. That’s our style. Not that we asked for it. For some reason, it just always happens that way. We made “complicated” in style even before friendster thought of it as a fitting relationship status. Not because it was that way for us, but because it was that way for many. And God knows how much we think of what they think. That just may be our most similar and proudest accomplishment together, I guess. Just taking it all in and smiling like we know something they don’t about what’s really there. Because we fucking do. And if they don’t get it, then my God we will not try to explain.
I watched his heart breaking, but I looked into his eyes and saw that same old spark that has made him the man he is. I watched him shout to the heavens and tell them through another man’s words how they should all go to hell because he will live, and he will live fully. I watched him walk onstage ready for words that will, at least for some moments, take some of the pain away.
I watched as they all watched. I saw him, just as the crowd saw him, but somehow I looked at him differently. I know him too much to see the same thing they see. I know him too much not to see what he doesn’t want them to see.
He’s not just standing there.
He’s still standing there, tall and proud and strong.
I was still sitting there, small and ever-present.
Against all odds.
Just like old times.
All haters be damned.
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