As I sat there with Garrett, I suddenly realized how Chris and I were…so…so different. I hesitate to say that we were better, but we had more abilities to communicate. And we listened.
I am not sure why I went. Perhaps I wanted to help others when nobody really truly helped me when I was unhappy. Was there anyone? I think at the very least, I was afraid of how people were going to judge me, hindering my abilities to see the truth. I didn\’t want people to tell me what to do, rather I wanted to figure out on my own. Yet at the same time, I inexplicably asked for a guide. And sometimes in the worst places. I just wanted to see that I was whole, a real person.
But we sat in Ritual, my choice of a cafe, I saw him going on and on. And suddenly words were lost on me. Maybe it was all the reading, all the counseling…that I could see how hurt he was. But it was impossible for him to stop and see differently. But how can I blame him? it sounds like there are insurmountable walls.
And then there was a moment that really irritated me. The moment that he said that he disagreed…told me that I was wrong. Instantly, it triggered a some sensation inside me. I didn\’t like it. I was pissed, because he wasn\’t listening to me, not letting me voice my opinion. It was at that moment that I wanted to throw the mug on the ground—can\’t you see what I am saying? But I held back, because I could tell that he was unhappy…and who knows he was looking for someone, something responsible. Even in his what I hesitated to call a mess…he was grasping for something in defense of the pain.
I felt sorry the moment that I could see the tears seep into his eyes. I felt sorry for being able to get him to feel that little. And then I become stone-like. I really didn\’t want to get involved. It\’s not my responsibility. It felt like he accused me of being not a good enough friend. And that struck a deep chord within me…even if it wasn\’t that direct. But I had to keep reminding myself that really it\’s about him.
So I urged him to find help.
So do I regret what I did? That I went and talked? Because I was afraid that he was truly calling for help. That he sounded so desperate and unhappy. I did the best that I could. And really that\’s all I can offer. I said…take this and think about it. What if you thought about love? What if you thought only about that? Wouldn\’t that help you realize your truth? Wouldn\’t that help you get back on your feet?