Wednesday, December 9, 2015

12: Sharing hopes with a friend

A friend loveth at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.


Sharing hopes with a friend

10/20/05

In my mind I see a picture
In my heart I feel a peace
A future inexpressible
On life, a whole new lease.

My life is out there, waiting
As my future comes to view
I could spend so much time sharing
All my hopes and dreams with you.

Now I know my life is only one
Of many; Yes, I see
But I'm ever so excited
For the things I know can be.

Perhaps in listening you'd find
That I would listen too
Should you share your hopes and dreams
The things that make you you.

For friends should share each other's joys
Their sorrow, hope, and pain
And stand, united, always
In trust and love unfeigned.

So forgive me if I ramble
On the joys I sense to come
For I would love to hear of you -
Your all, and then still some.

For friends we are and always
Stand tall, and strong, and true
I thank God daily, that I have
Such a friend in You!


Oh, how I wished I had a real friend, a reliable friend. Mature enough to see and accept the hard realities I've had to handle and true enough that they would  allow me to prove myself a friend in return.

Friends during my first 25 years did not exactly qualify as friends. Many, too immature to understand or too self-centered to care, stated blandly that I just wasn't worth being a friend to - that I must just not want to be happy.  Considering the abuse and also the strain of responsibility in caring for an ill mother till I discovered her dead one morning and also caring for younger siblings for years through high school and early college, I think it's fair to say I should not have been condemned for being on an emotional roller-coaster.


The truth is, I have trouble looking at 98% of the people I knew before I left the town I lived in as friends. Even the ones I talked to with regularity are strangers to me because I know they have no idea what was really going on. The me they thought they knew is not who I was or am and so it feels false the few times I've tried to talk to any of them. I also know that because abuse is so often hidden from the view of those not living in it, it is hard for the clueless to accept the truth. And the truth for me is that I'm not looking to make a big deal out of it for attention or revenge or pity and I do not like pointless confrontation so it's easiest just to let the dead stay dead.

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