This past weekend was awkward.
I know I certainly played a big part in that, but at the same time I know that it wasn't just me. It has been a while since things were awkward, so it was bound to happen anyway.
What I can't get over is how much it messed with me. My appetite was shot, I could hardly sleep, and it felt like Mothra had invited all his giant winged friends over to my stomach for a weekend-long party. I hadn't really been able to sleep all week, so I can't say for sure that insomnia was related to friendship tensions.
Is that even ok? In some sense, I know that strained relationships are bound to take some kind of toll- especially close relationships that are important to me. But on the other hand, it seems somehow unbiblical to be so affected by a friend. Does it mean I'm not trusting Jesus?
Something else that has been bugging me is how utterly afraid I was. I was paralyzed by fear in the moment, so much so that I couldn't bring myself to ask for simple needs. Then after the fact, I wanted so badly to talk about it, yet the thought made me want to hurl. Where did that come from?!? For at least the first year and a half (maybe more) of this particular friendship, I felt like I was walking a fine line. I thought that at my next offense or mistake, that would be the end. I was shocked everytime I was forgiven for anything. Obviously, I was dealing with issues of trust, and I am unhappy to see the extent that I still am. It's like I haven't grown at all, and that is disheartening.
Why is it so hard for me to believe, and I mean really believe deep deep down in the recesses of my being, that I am loved? Why is it harder with some people than others? How come I feel unworthy of friendship? Why do I tell myself that new people are too cool to want to associate with me?
We've talked about it, and we're good now. It's just in that teetery phase of "now that the pink elephant has been addressed, what do we talk about now?" After we had talked, I cried on my way to class. Not a whole lot, but a couple tears down my cheeks. I was about to start crying during class, but fortunately I got my eyes to stop at welling up. It was the weirdest thing. I wanted to cry all weekend, but I couldn't. It felt good, but I was caught off-guard and very confused by it. It should have come before or maybe during the talk. By the time I was in my truck, I was certain it wouldn't happen, but the crazy flood of emotion that had been festering for days finally broke out. I had unintentionally been the kind of person I had not wanted to be, driven by fear and doubt to behave foolishly. The thought crossed my mind that I should have apologized a little more profusely. However, I was also more than happy that the fear of what was coming had finally blown over. Guilt and relief made for a strange mix, like when you try snocone flavors that don't really go together but there's something interesting about the combination that makes you finish the whole thing.
I just don't know what to make of it all.
