It's the same way every time. Every time, we meet, we laugh, we connect, we talk. About real things. About the way things should be. It's amazing how interesting people are. We even throw in a, "no way, you too?" or "it's like you're reading my mind..." It's just a formality, really. We end up losing track of time (a popular gimick) and then leave, feeling refreshed and honest.
And then something happens.
Something in the universe conspires against me. The fabric of reality twists and shifts, and I invariably become the best friend. It's formulaic.
Normally, this would not bother me. I am blessed beyond belief to have so many close friends with whom I am able to converse like this. And as far as gentlemen are concerned, I am not actively seeking to make these startling connections--it just happens. But it starts to get under my skin when several of these encounters occur within a short period of time. Let's say three in one week. That's just excessive. It loses its spark factor and becomes rather predictable. And before I know it, I'm no longer Diana, but "buddy." [Not only do I gag at the nickname, it makes me think of Fried Green Tomatoes and the boy named Buddy who dies at the beginning--I don't think I'll ever get over that, people.]
Anyway, what is my point? My point is I'm exhausted. And I'm trying to discern what God is teaching me through all of these enchanting encounters...that I'm a good conversationalist? I hope it's more than that. If anything, it has allowed me to witness some primal patterns of life. We all want the same things. We want people to hear us, to understand our spirits. We want to be known.
Story of my life.
1 comment:
not every friendship needs to be so predictable, and not every friendship can be the same.
re: yes, yes, your pictures and cards happen to be scattered throughout my entire apartment.
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