"Birds Without Wings"

I mediated a fight between friends this evening over Messenger. It wasn't something I particularly wanted to do, and I'm not even sure they wanted me to do it, but I did it, and in hindsight do not regret my decision to step in. At the time, I had my doubts, because I felt I was being dragged into something which was not my concern. Then I remembered that anything that happens to my friends is of concern to me, and I felt an internal obligation to do what I could. I'm not sure how much of their reconciliation can be attributed to my intervention, and how much of it was just the two of them coming to terms with one another, but a part of me likes to think I had some sort of positive effect on the preceedings.

I often wonder why I do things like that, though. It's fairly common--I always let myself get caught up in the middle of things that really shouldn't concern me, things that are not going to directly affect me in any way, shape, or form. I try to get friends to reconcile. It just seems...right, I guess, as if that's how things should be. Until I got into college, really, I didn't have very many friends. I had a few in high school, and fewer in elementary and junior high, but in college I suddenly found myself surrounded by people who knew me and loved me anyway. It was a good feeling, and I count myself very lucky to have as many close friends as I do. And their number grows still, for which I am eternally grateful. But I still can't let go of the idea of letting friends go, if you will. A part of me still remembers what it was like being laughed at by everyone at school, and what it was like to always eat lunch alone, play alone at recess, and be made fun of by everyone around me. Part of me still remembers what it's like not having friends.

There's a quote I recall, though I cannot remember who it is by. It goes something to the effect of "he who has a hundred friends has not one to spare." I think there's some truth to that. I don't have anywhere near that many close friends. There are maybe a dozen to two dozen scattered across the country whom I'd consider close friends, people whom I'd trust with my life. As I look at that statement, put down in writing, it occurs to me just how amazing that is. Nearly two dozen people that I'd trust that much, and that I love more than I could ever express. There are really no adequate words for it. Most people count themselves lucky to find one such person in a lifetime, and I've found over 20 in but a couple of decades. I think that makes me one of the luckiest, wealthiest men alive.

The funny thing is, despite having so many, I refuse to let even one go. I don't like letting go of friends, ever. Even if there's been a serious falling out, I refuse to believe that they could no longer be my friend. I cling on long after I should. It actually reminds me of a passage from Terry Pratchett's Small Gods. The small god Om was reminiscing about his first believer, a shepherd out searching for a lost sheep. The shepherd, Om remembered, had hundreds of sheep, yet would search for a single lost lamb. In fact, the reason the shepherd had hundreds of sheep was that he was willing to search for days for a single lost one. I'm not saying I'm a shepherd to my friends or anything, but I think part of the reason I've been blessed with such an abundance of close friends is that I refuse to give up even on one. When I become someone's friend, they do not get rid of me easily.

By the same token, I don't like to see other people lose friends, either. It's very hard for me to understand a parting of ways that is total and permanent. I can't comprehend why people would want to do that. If you love someone dearly, why would you no longer want to be their friend or have anything to do with them? How can you suddenly hate them as well? It's an idea alien to me. In fact, I've only felt it twice, and both times it was in high school, and dealt with a pair of people in whom I had placed trust (and another friend had as well) and that trust was broken in a complete and irreconcilable fashion. Those two people destroyed years of friendship for making out, essentially, and nearly destroyed a dear friend of mine in the process. It was petty, and stupid, and selfish, and I hated them for a long time for it. I don't anymore (rather, I pity them now), but at the time...I wanted nothing to do with them.

But I am still hesitant to ever let the sun go down on my anger with a friend. I've gotten mad at friends many times before. They or I often do something stupid and selfish that sparks a fire inside of me that flares up and consumes me. I've stormed off with rage burning in my heart many times, leaving friends slackjawed behind me. But I always come back and try to repair the breach.

Conflicts are, of course, a part of any relationship, romantic or Platonic or otherwise. Conflict is part of the dynamic and allows us to grow as people. Without it, we'd become stagnant and disconnected from other people and from ourselves. While I'm not glad I've had to fight with my friends, I am always glad that we've worked through our difficulties and come out even stronger than before. I love all of my friends dearly, and consider myself luckier than I could ever express in words to have them. I wouldn't trade even the most difficult and trying moment with a friend for anything else in the world. Maybe I'm just a sentimental sap, but then again, maybe that's not so bad.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Jars of Clay, "Trouble Is"