I am a mess. I'm awkward. Sometimes I'm a bit neurotic. I truly am a walking contradiction. I'm afraid of being noticed, but I stand out in a crowd because I refuse to go with the flow and be like everyone else. I crave order and stability, but I create chaos. I'm not unhappy, but I don't smile much. I like for everything to have a place, yet I put things in piles and shove them into closets. I hate to be late and stressed, but I always have to do just one more thing before I go and in turn, I am ALWAYS late...everywhere...all the time...and stressed when I get there. I can't stand weakness...hate "wussys"...think people shouldn't take everything so personally, but I am overly sensitive. I like to be in charge...to drive...to make decisions, but I waffle, doubt myself, and constantly worry about making the wrong decision or getting lost. I want to be perfect...to look perfect...to do things perfectly, but I hate it when people fear being around me because they think I'm too perfect...which is funny, because part of the aggravation is that I see myself as so imperfect. I am as they say in one of my favorite movies "Clueless", "a full on Monet". From far away a Monet looks perfect, beautiful...it flows and is pleasant to behold...everything in place... but when you get too close...it's confusing...not at all what it seemed...some would even say, a mess. It takes just the right person to appreciate a Monet both far away and close up.
I've always felt weird...like no one "gets me". Every now and then I find a friend that sticks around long enough to see through the facade I carry around...likes me enough to find my faults charming...and even kinda "gets me". But, that's a rarity...an unexpected bonus...and even then, I am guarded and careful. I hide the parts of myself that I am afraid will taint my image and I keep the secrets that I worry will scare or confuse them to myself. The sad part is that I think every time that I've done that, I kill a little piece of me...a little piece of who I could be.
I've never been stabbed...shot...or terminally ill. I've never been in a life threatening car wreck...never been in danger of dying physically...but my life has been saved...more than once. I met someone that I discounted ...someone that I put a label on. I never thought of this person as someone that could really be a part of my life or even make a difference. He was a distraction...something new...an amusement. I realized that I was wrong within weeks of knowing him. This person became my friend. Every day that I worked with him...I changed. Some days I went in happy and ready to work...some days I went in beat down and broken. When I was happy, I left happier...laughing. When I told him things that I was afraid were weird or that I didn't think anyone would understand...he understood...he "got it". When I was broken...he put me back together with his encouragement. When I had secrets...they stayed with him...safe. When I expressed concerns...he offered hope. When I went in physically hurt...sometimes I actually left pain free. When I was awkward and clumsy...when I tripped or messed up...he laughed...we laughed...and it was OK...safe.
Every time these things happened, he was in a sense saving my life...one day at a time...one act of kindness and friendship at a time. Neither of us expected to become friends. I wanted to look better...he wanted a client. We got way more than either of us thought we would. He taught me...changed me...built me up...saved me. When I left, I was better...okay...for one more day. I know that I didn't even give him a fraction of what he has given me. All I can do now is do my best to be what he convinced me that I can be...to keep going...to pass on what I've been given...to emulate his example. I want to be the kind of friend that saves a life...one day at a time...just like he did.
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