Baby, and a short history of a friendship

I am newly a father. I suppose logically, that would be where to go with this post. All the wonders and joys of new parenthood. Knowing I would take a bullet for my daughter. So on and so forth. And don't get me wrong: that's all there. But I know you've heard it all before. Yes, it changes my life, but I knew it would. Yes, I will gaze into her tiny eyes and get lost. Yes, I think she's the best thing in the world, and I have to hold myself back from hitting people who claim otherwise.  But I'm pretty sure that's less interesting to hear about. Here is a picture though, because I am full of Parental Joy:

Cute, right?

Anyway, I'm gushing. I know, my tone may read as dismissive, but I'm pretty terrible at communicating my emotions well on purpose.

Now for the reason I'm writing this blog.  I have a friend. Let's call her "Orange" (the color, not the fruit). We met when she was rooming with a girl I was desperately trying to date for reasons I cannot fully explain. The first time I remember seeing her was when I had found this girl's (the Crush, I mean) Student ID and called her room to return it. This was one of many ill-fated attempts I made at getting an actual conversation going with the Crush so I could work up the nerve to ask her out. I'm pretty sure I eventually did. Needless to say, I did not end up marrying her, and she is not the mother of my little bundle of joy (the Cuteness you see above).

Anyway, when we first met, I thought Orange hated me. Apparently, she used to get that a lot, which is a shame, because she's a lovely human being. If I hadn't already been obsessed with the Crush at the time, I would probably have been taken with her. Anyway, I doubt I seemed my usual charming self either, since I had intended that ID card to be my ticket to relationship bliss and instead I got to talk to the roommate.

Fast forward two years: I'm a senior in college. It's become clear the Crush isn't interested in me, but we still hang out from time to time. Orange and I have begun chatting.  It amazes her how down to earth I am. It amazes me how I could have overlooked her brilliance under the shadow of the Crush. No, music does not swell, our eyes do not meet, and there is no grand romance brewing. But we find a mutual respect for one another that lasts to this day. Ultimately, we are very much alike we two. Both want to write. Both would enjoy a job in publishing, but neither of us seem on track to get one. Both think in similar ways. We have similar vices, similar interests: all the makings of a friendship.

Fast forward again, I've graduated and moved. Not just home, but to New York (the state, not the city). Having met my now-wife, I was pretty much rooted down here. Orange and I are now farther from each other in terms of geography, but closer in terms of friendship. We send one another scripts we've written. Bounce ideas off of each other. Not overly frequently, but it's a nice equilibrium we've established.

You know, I had intended this post to go a different direction, but the prologue feels a complete story unto itself. I think I'll leave it for now.

(For the record, "The Crush" is a term contingent on what time I'm talking about, from this moment on, "Orange" and "The Cuteness" will refer to my friend and daughter, respectively.)

A Restarted Blog

I periodically tell myself I'm going to start blogging again. Just today, I found a friend's blog and read through it. She had recently completed a 30 day blogging challenge. The idea is here:

1. Something you hate about yourself
2. Something you love about yourself
3. Something you have to forgive yourself for
4. Something you have to forgive someone for
5. Something you hope to do in your life
6. Something you hope to never have to do
7. Someone who has made your life worth living for
8. Someone who made your life hell, or treated you like shit
9. Someone you didn't want to let go, but but just drifted
10. Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn't know
11. Something people seem to compliment you the most on
12. Something you never get complimented on
13. A band or artist that has gotten you through some tough-ass days (write a letter)
14. A hero that has let you down (letter)
15. Something or someone you couldn't live without, because you've tried living without it
16. Someone or something you definitely could live without
17. A book you've read that's changed your views on something
18. Your views on gay marriage
19. What do you think of religion? or What do you think of politics?
20. Your views on drugs & alcohol
21. (scenario) Your best friend is in a car accident and you two fought an hour before. What do you do?
22. Something you wish you hadn't done in your life
23. Something you wish you HAD done in your life
24. Make a playlist to someone and explain why you chose all the songs (just titles/artists and reasons)
25. The reason you believe you're still alive today
26. Have you ever thought about giving up on life? If so, when and why?
27. What's the best thing going for your right now?
28. What if you were pregnant, or had gotten someone pregnant, what would you do?
29. Something you hope to change about yourself and why?
30. A letter to yourself. Tell yourself everything you love about yourself.

I immediately thought this was a cool idea. I began reading her entries and realized two things. First, I didn't really know her at all, despite considering her to be a friend, and second, I have nothing to write for several of these posts. I do, however, have a plan for returning to blogging. Namely, I will attempt to communicate to the internet in one way or another what scarce little I remember of my childhood up through when I began blogging. No idea how long it will take. No idea how much detail it will have. I'll try to come up with a catchy title for it by tomorrow.

Moving Away

Some months ago, I moved to New York. Some months before that, I had planned to move to LA, while still in school. I've already covered in here why I didn't move to LA. Here's why I did move to New York.

First of all, I wasn't finding a job back home. The market here isn't great, but I still managed to get a job, and that does fill one with a certain sense of accomplishment. In my entire jobhunt, I had two interviews: one was a mass-interview for an insurance company which would require that I become certified first, while the other was working as something like an orderly in something like a nursing home, but they turned me down. I really didn't want either job, though. Largely, because of my second reason.

My second reason is that I had friends here. Two of my dearest friends. Some might say my two dearest friends. They had gotten married last year, and wanted me to come live here. We'd talked about it briefly before. For some reason, they finally succeeded. The difference was my first reason, combined with my third reason.

My third reason was a woman named Renée. We'd met at the wedding of those same two friends. She was a nearly-lifelong friend of the bride. I was a college friend of both. And due to a coincidence in the heights of groomsmen and bridesmaids, we ended up walking together at their wedding. Because we walked, we also danced. Our relationship didn't begin then. It was quite a while before we even admitted we liked each other. But that was the moment I fell for her. That was when I knew that, sooner or later, I needed to move to New York.

Remember When We Used To Be Friends

Looking over photos online, I was filled with a sense of disappointment and sadness. I used to have a friend I didn't appreciate enough. For a few blessed months, we finally connected. Then she got busy. Then I got busy. Through this whole time, I tried so desperately to keep in touch. Then she went away. When she got back from her trip, but she had made new friends. Cooler friends. She's still friends with them. She and I? We're civil, at best. I miss her. But because of some unpleasantness in my past (which I describe here), I don't dare try to reach out to her again.

Life is complicated. I wish it weren't.

Enemies

This could be a lot better, but it was more or less a stream of consciousness. Ironically, this kept me from actually talking about the event that triggered this post.

I make a lot of enemies. As a Christian, I struggled with this fact for some time. I spent a lot of time trying not to have enemies - even to be friends with everyone. I was motivated partly out of a desire to be nice, and partly out of fear. I was bullied a good bit growing up, and have no desire to ever return to that miserable state. Worse yet, I may become one (I come too close for my own comfort with certain friends as it is, but that is a whole other topic).

I will skip over the various ways I tried to stop making enemies for the sake of brevity and interest. Suffice it to say, every attempt failed. A little while ago, I came to a realization that put my mind at ease. We are not commanded by God to have no enemies. We are called to love our enemies. I need not like everyone or even want to spend time with them. I need to love my enemies.

This drastically shifted my means of approaching life. For one thing, I no longer feel guilty or like something is wrong with me when I love someone the wrong way (or when they have that effect on me). I need keep two things in mind when I am among my enemies: I must treat them as I would a friend and neighbor, and I must strive to want this. Ultimately, I hope that I will love my enemies by nature - to truly love all of humanity. Right now, I stick with what is reachable: to manifest love towards those I would call enemies.

I may be blowing my own horn here at the moment, but I think I have better definitions of "friend" and "enemy" than the rest of the culture with which I interact. I do, sadly, call some people friends who I do not consider to be real friends. By cultural standards, they are: we hang out, share our thoughts, and even have fun together. But for me, that is not a friend. A friend involves love, trust, and connection. There are many people with whom I spend my time simply by coincidence - on my own, I would never contact them or seek them out. I would not confide in them anything beyond my surface thoughts, I feel no connection, except by geography, and I cannot say I love them in any meaningful way (though I still try, as with enemies, to love them as neighbors).

True friends, in my mind, are peers in every way. Someone you can respect, through differences in interest and ability alike. Someone who respects you in turn. Someone from whom, at least when you are alone together, you would not withhold any secrets of your own. Indeed, keeping any secrets between friends should pain both you and them, because you would want to share. And most importantly, there should be a real, unmistakable connection, such that you could not stop being friends if you wanted to.

Enemies are opposed to these in some ways, but very similar in others. The most notable similarity is that you have no choice - this person who is your enemy will be your enemy whether you like it or not. The greatest difference is trust - you will not want to share anything with this person, and may resent them when they try to earn a share of anything in which you are invested. That is why it is so great a challenge to love your enemies. You must pain yourself, give of yourself to the one you feel certain must hurt you. And you must accept it when he does, and trust him again. This does not mean you must actually help him hurt you or those you care about, but we, as Christians cannot let fear of being hurt stop us. We must love those who may hate us, and do our best to endure the repercussions.

γνῶθι σεαυτόν

Who knows you better, you or your friends?

I've been thinking about this a good bit lately. Not too long ago, I had a conversation with two friends who seem to have a much higher view of me than I have of myself. Another friend has constantly been telling me I appraise myself wrongly (not just in one respect - pretty much every time I describe myself, he tells me that no, I'm another way).

The question was first: do my friends know me better than I know myself? But this question is too self-absorbed, too narrow, and hardly inspires genuine thought. So I widened it. For people in general (including you, dear reader) who knows someone better, the person himself, or his friends? I'd like to believe I know myself better, but acknowledge there are at least some ways in which I know virtually nothing about myself that others seem to understand quite well.

The question then becomes: if someone else knows you better than yourself, how do you come to understand yourself as well as they do?