Je ne te connais pas

Literally translated, the title means, "I do not know you." It's a song I heard recently, and it--as well as several of my friends and family memebers--has me thinking about myself in relation to other people.

If I've learned anything from Seneca, it's that nothing in life is guraunteed or promised. Sadly, this is the truth, and our clinging hands sometimes slip. The sweat from stress and other people's influential pullings can tear apart even the most kindred of souls.

As always, I wonder what I have done in past situations, and try to think of a better way to carry about my life. In retrospect, I notice that I usually take one of two courses of action:

1.) This method is more avoidant and distant: hold people at arm's length so it's easier when you have to let go. I usually use this method at first, and keep it for people like classmates and acquaintances.

2.) I use this method for close friends and loved ones: I don't let go till it bleeds. I can be a very loyal friend, and I know I have a hard time letting go.

The first method is a logical and admittedly germane approach to friendship. Is it really better to avoid pain, though? Sure, there's more distance, but what joy is there in constantly anticipating that everyone close to you will slip like sand through your fingers? This will inevitably lead to either constant worrying or loss of friends.

I, for one, say hold on and look for good friends that'll squeeze harder when you begin to drift away. Look for friends that will let you seek their sympathy. Let them be a lifeline and a light. Fight for your friendships, and do these things for others. Never settle for someone who won't do these things for you. If they don't want to hear your misfortunes, they probably aren't your friend; however, hold on to hope and keep your faith in friends who give you these courtesies. They will be the most valuable part of your life.

Andrew, Chris, Lyn, and Alice: if I had a glass, I'd be raising it to you guys right now. You've brought me through the roughest November seas of my life and I've come out okay because of you guys.

Alice: You told me to look to God when I lost hope. Your faith has been an inspiration to me, and I would like to get to know you much better this year. I know you're going through some tough times right now, but I will always do for you what you did for me: offer hope.

Lyn: You saved my life and kept me from making a terrible mistake. You've been there to talk about my troubles and keep me in check throughout this difficult summer. If I ever plan on doing something reckless or stupid, I can count on you to keep me under control.

Chris: You consoled me at one of the worst points of my life, and stayed on the phone with me when I could only be described as pathetic. Your empathy and support kept me going even when I was no longer coherent.

Andrew: I don't think I could ask for a better friend. In the seven years I've known you, I've always, always been able to talk to you. No matter how weird or troubling my problems were, you listened and offered advice and consolation. Thanks for being there in all my times of need.

This also is from a song I've heard recently:
"When your faith in life is gone
Come and speak to me
When you’re down and all messed up
Seek my sympathy

When your face is caked with mud
Come and speak to me
When the chill creeps in your blood
Seek my sympathy"
(Your Misfortune by Mike Doughty)

Take those two stanzas as an offer and a promise. I usually never promise anything, but for you guys, I can. Thanks, guys. Thanks for everything.