"Good Lovers And Friends I Still Can Recall"

Hardship breaks my heart. And not even my own hardship--hell, the most I usually have to suffer through for my own sake is that such or another girl told me she wanted to be my friend rather than my girlfriend, or that I don't have enough ready cash to purchase the CD I kinda sorta want. I don't go hungry, I have a roof over my head and a vehicle that works well, I have friends and family who love me dearly, and I don't have much suffering in my life, truth be told. Most of my problems are brought on by my own stupidity.

So it hurts me instead when my friends are in pain, not least because I don't always know what to do about it. I don't have emotional problems (though my mother suspected I did when I was in high school...I think she finally figured out that was just teenage angst and anxiety and pressure over college choice), I don't have people stabbing me in the back (that I'm aware of), I don't have any sort of life-threatening physical condition (I'm overweight, but not dangerously so, and I'm working on that, after all). Some of my friends do. One is dealing with figuring out that friends are people who stay with you regardless of the problems, who encourage you to get the help you actually need. Another is trying to find out who they are, many years after they thought they knew. Some are dealing with things I can't even begin to understand, or even with things I can understand but on such a level that I cannot even imagine trying to cope with it. Maybe a couple of those friends are reading this, maybe they're not. That really doesn't matter. What matters is that they are my friends and I love them dearly, and will do anything within my power to help them in any way I can.

Admittedly, most of what I'm capable of doing is simply listening and talking. I've had friends cry on my shoulder; I've cried on the shoulders of my friends, usually over things that seemed vital at the time and now seem almost trivial and sophomoric. I've been the healer and the healed, the patient and the doctor. I've tried my hand at being an amateur psychologist, and only hope I've done more good than harm.

I'm not, to use a term I've picked up from Ev, an alpha. I'm not a leader, or a charismatic person who can inspire others to follow me into the very jaws of hell or anything like that. The most I inspire in people is maybe a chuckle or a groan, or a shaking of the head on bad days. A rolling of the eyes, perhaps. I don't think people take their lead from my example, and I'm not conceited enough to think anyone necessarily should (which isn't to say that people who do set a standard for others to follow are conceited...just that it'd be conceited for me to assume that I'm one of those people). I don't even necessarily know why I'm saying all this, or where it will go...these entries always turn out rather stream of consciousness, expressing whatever's on my mind at the time. Currently, said mind is awash with dozens of thoughts, and I feel guilty for thinking some of them. Part of me is thinking of the fun I'll have this weekend seeing Wendy and her new boy, and hanging out with them and introducing them to Beth (and then watching as Beth and Wendy gang up on me and destroy what little manliness I have remaining, which is currently wrapped around me in tatters and rags like a cloak of dignity or office). I'm thinking of the fact that they finally announced that the Star Wars trilogy (not the prequels) will be released on DVD in September, though I'm sure Greedo will still shoot first.

But most of all, I'm thinking of my friends. I'm thinking that there is very little I would not do for them. There are some friends I could probably be convinced to commit a crime for.

I was reading Ev's blog earlier, and he mentioned something about some of the people he knew: how they were willing to be active politically, to effect socio-political change, but were unwilling to act to prohibit a social predator from harming people emotionally because they were afraid of losing the benefits of knowing the person. In a simple twist of fate, to borrow a phrase from Dylan, I'm pretty much the complete opposite--you can hardly convince me to do anything to be politically active. I'll vote, but it won't go far beyond that. I don't care about politics. I don't think that's where I can effect any sort of major change. But I'll be damned before I'll let someone harm one of my friends. I don't care what the price may be. I'll suffer ostracism, I'll deal with public humiliation or whatever. I'll do what it takes, whatever's in my power, to defend the honor of my friends.

I was having a conversation with Beth last night along those lines, actually. She'd mentioned something about her brother once standing up to the high school football team when she was just a freshman in high school (which, since she started a year early and skipped a grade, meant she was about 12 or 13). Being the dork that I am, I piped up, "I'd defend your honor." I sat back and thought about it for a minute, and realized I really would. I would actually get in a physical fight to protect her, and I don't just mean protect her physically.

And that just made me think of the lengths I'd go to to protect those even dearer to me.

It's strange how strangers slip through quietly, and suddenly they're friends. How people we hardly know happen to be around for a while, and suddenly we seem to know all about them. There's a beauty and a simplicity to that which I'm just now noticing, but I'm glad I'm having the opportunity to.

~chuck

Song of the Moment: Jewel, "You were meant for Me"