5 Friends: Turmoil

One of my biggest concerns in learning to make friendships involves a fear of betraying the people I try to befriend. I sometimes... often... ok, pretty much every single time I want to get close to someone... feel that there is no possible way to adequately prepare people for what being my friend will entail. A dozen IRB-approved waivers, endless vulnerable soliloquies, and even reading my mind through a binge of (G)MG wouldn't cut it.

I realize that everyone is different from their first impression. That everyone has flaws. That everyone needs people who forgive and work to improve their lives. But, for better or worse, real or not, I honestly also feel like I'm an outlier in this world too. As people get to know me, I inevitably end up as someone dramatically different from what they expected. And I wish I could fix that.

I also sometimes feel enormous guilt for even trying to make friends. While others see me as a totally normal (or perhaps slightly different) person, I know, fully well, that most of my friendships will not work out. I know from past experience that I will probably leave indelible marks on the lives of the other people involved. And while some marks may be positive, others have caused unimaginable chaos.

I've realized that I can't take responsibility for all of the chaotic things that happen in other people's lives when I'm around them. Some are directly my fault, caused by my own personal, knowing mistakes. Others are my cause - where I do something and unknowingly cause pain - like when I dated three best friends in a row (they didn't live together... how was I supposed to know they were best friends? Or know that I wasn't supposed to anyway?) or when I asked a girl for dating advice because she was the only one I trusted... and she was interested in me. And others just happen. Family members get sick, challenges intensify, life gets more and more complicated, and the fact that complications seem to magnify in my presence isn't my "fault," persay. Sometimes I try to convince myself that people need to get through their challenges and maybe it just speeds up the process. But that really doesn't work. I've seen enough people start to get close to me and then have once-in-a-lifetime emotional breakdowns that I can't just sweep it under the rug.

But those aren't the worst.

I can forgive myself for the chaos I didn't directly cause in someone's life.

The worst are the things that I could have known better, should have known better. The mistakes I make because I'm human, mortal, and imperfect. Some are mundane - I text someone too many times, or use the wrong words in a conversation. Some are manageable - I forget people's names and, often, everything about them within less than a day unless I write it down in a note file on my phone. 

And some... these are the ones that keep me awake at night... some are things I do that are simply wrong. True sins, where my actions turn away from God and lead someone else down the path to darkness. I don't even feel comfortable writing them down. And even as I feel more comfortable, I tell myself that I can't place what they were, except for the most atrocious ones, because in the moment I am so deeply ashamed that I bury them in the furthest recesses of my mind.

As much as everyone sins, as imperfect as the entire world may be, the fact that *I* am a sometimes servant of darkness, and that *I* have marred, shattered, and destroyed people and potential close relationships in that role... that's a pain only God can take away.

The people stay. Burned indelibly in my mind are those whose lives and feelings and souls I've hurt. I might forget a friend in a day. But the people I hurt decades ago... I still remember. I still remember throwing a water polo ball at Jenny Welter's face. A moment killed what was there. I didn't realize we had been friends. Years later I still feel regret.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the enormous mistakes I make in life and relationships. I'm sorry for often being accompanied by chaos and change. I'm sorry for being imperfect, yet appearing normal. I'm sorry for building people up and then letting people down. I'm sorry for my sins, my inadequacies, my poor understanding of everything. I'm sorry for affecting lives and relationships and friendships and families. I'm sorry for everything I've done that has caused pain. To each of you, and especially those I care for most and your loved ones, I am sorry.

I can't promise I will make no more mistakes. On the contrary, being close to me will likely always bring turmoil... and I am woefully imperfect. But... and this takes effort for me to believe... it's worth it. I am worth it. A friendship with me is worth it to me, and worth it to even those I've hurt. And that's why I'm willing to try and try again.

Jagged rips

Fiery wounds

Caution blends with pain

Forearms tear and scratches burn

And yet I blunder on, believing.

The ache lingers

And then, within a moment,

Is quenched by the aroma

Of the rose.