Friends of Fancy
At this moment in time it’s 4:30 in the morning. I know what I should be doing. Yes I do. I should be sleeping. I should be sleeping, but I felt like writing. You know, it was one of those moments late at night when for some reason my pondering thoughts become deafening, rather than the soothing lull that ushers me into sleep. I just didn’t feel like fighting the urge. I’m sure it would have won. *Grumbles* that rapscallion of an urge!
I was just talking today about what makes someone a best friend or not… as opposed to a friend or an acquaintance. I’m conscious about how I refer to people. I don’t usually use the word “best” or the word “acquaintance,” but at the same time I’m very selective when I refer to someone as a friend. If in all truth I actually do not know them very well, I won’t call them a friend. Instead I call them, “a girl from class,” or “a guy I know from choir,” or “my neighbor Jim.” It’s not even that I chose to refrain form using the word friend, it’s just that the other option would be calling them acquaintances, and that just sounds rather on the chilly side. “Acquaintance” reminds me of the Great Gatsby parties, where the greeting at the doorway is the first introduction for most people.
I feel like every experience in meeting someone is unique, so then there is no official title that can be assigned to these people. So my delicacy around the issue of using “friend” to describe someone is by no means an aversion to the word. The only way I can really understand this trait in myself is to look at my sign. Taurus. I’m someone who is absolutely loyal to the few people I truly, undeniably, and even painfully love. I feel an extraordinary bond with those who have made a deep imprint on my life, and who I couldn’t even imagine living without.
Time. It is the time I’ve spent with these people that helps to create the bond. I noticed that I kept coming back to time as an answer for how people become close. Taurus describes me well, because along with the people who have truly touched me, and who I have touched, there is the time it took to become close. I am cautious, I think, not because I doubt people, but because I really realize how very complex a person is. It takes me a very long time to get close to someone. I know that no person can ever easily show themselves to anyone, and it takes sharing common experiences—pains and pleasures, jokes and fighting, truths and failings, passions and un-guarded feelings—to relinquish protective pretences and be honest and open.
This is always the place I would like to be; without the veneer of a façade. Yet I realize we humans try to protect ourselves. We can’t avoid our gentle hesitance. It happens not only in me, but in everyone. It’s like a little dance of friendly encouragement. We are like children getting used to the ocean for the first time. It takes both of them coaxing each other and testing the waters to at last end up playing in the waves together. This is why it takes time for me to feel comfortable with someone: I know that everyday you spend time with someone, they offer a little bit more of themselves… Juuuust a little bit at a time.
I love the point in the future where it all comes together. You can laugh about a million things, you notice they are wearing your favorite shirt, you automatically know to hand over your olives, you can predict how they are going to tell a story, you find it endearing how they over-use the word “tight….” It’s beautiful when you feel so close to someone that you hold nothing back. You are familiar with and love their faults and fancies. And the greatest thing is: No matter how well you think you know someone, they will always still surprise you.
I was just talking today about what makes someone a best friend or not… as opposed to a friend or an acquaintance. I’m conscious about how I refer to people. I don’t usually use the word “best” or the word “acquaintance,” but at the same time I’m very selective when I refer to someone as a friend. If in all truth I actually do not know them very well, I won’t call them a friend. Instead I call them, “a girl from class,” or “a guy I know from choir,” or “my neighbor Jim.” It’s not even that I chose to refrain form using the word friend, it’s just that the other option would be calling them acquaintances, and that just sounds rather on the chilly side. “Acquaintance” reminds me of the Great Gatsby parties, where the greeting at the doorway is the first introduction for most people.
I feel like every experience in meeting someone is unique, so then there is no official title that can be assigned to these people. So my delicacy around the issue of using “friend” to describe someone is by no means an aversion to the word. The only way I can really understand this trait in myself is to look at my sign. Taurus. I’m someone who is absolutely loyal to the few people I truly, undeniably, and even painfully love. I feel an extraordinary bond with those who have made a deep imprint on my life, and who I couldn’t even imagine living without.
Time. It is the time I’ve spent with these people that helps to create the bond. I noticed that I kept coming back to time as an answer for how people become close. Taurus describes me well, because along with the people who have truly touched me, and who I have touched, there is the time it took to become close. I am cautious, I think, not because I doubt people, but because I really realize how very complex a person is. It takes me a very long time to get close to someone. I know that no person can ever easily show themselves to anyone, and it takes sharing common experiences—pains and pleasures, jokes and fighting, truths and failings, passions and un-guarded feelings—to relinquish protective pretences and be honest and open.
This is always the place I would like to be; without the veneer of a façade. Yet I realize we humans try to protect ourselves. We can’t avoid our gentle hesitance. It happens not only in me, but in everyone. It’s like a little dance of friendly encouragement. We are like children getting used to the ocean for the first time. It takes both of them coaxing each other and testing the waters to at last end up playing in the waves together. This is why it takes time for me to feel comfortable with someone: I know that everyday you spend time with someone, they offer a little bit more of themselves… Juuuust a little bit at a time.
I love the point in the future where it all comes together. You can laugh about a million things, you notice they are wearing your favorite shirt, you automatically know to hand over your olives, you can predict how they are going to tell a story, you find it endearing how they over-use the word “tight….” It’s beautiful when you feel so close to someone that you hold nothing back. You are familiar with and love their faults and fancies. And the greatest thing is: No matter how well you think you know someone, they will always still surprise you.
posted by Integrity at 8:27 PM
2 Comments:
The idea that time is just as important as being honest about yourself is something I have had to learn this year with friends. Just sharing who you are doesn't do justice to, as you said, how complex we are. I like the metaphor of dipping our feet in the ocean, testing out another person as you get to know them.
I especially love your last paragraph. It makes me so thankful to have you in my life, to have a friend that can view faults and quirks in such a way. That is one of your greatest gifts, I believe: your ability to love all those aspects of another person. I love you!
And I love you!
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