Stubbornly.

We were sitting at a table with four other people and, as you animatedly told your stories from the weekend, you only really looked at me. You glanced at the others periodically, but I felt like you were telling your tales to me.

The guy you liked, one of my closest friends, was sitting in between us. I knew you’d tell him many more details later and, at the end of our meal, I heard the two of you making plans to go into town together.

But, as you spoke now, you kept looking at me.

I could’ve cried. Instead I laughed, listened intently, and gave you as much eye contact as you wanted.

I could feel you wanting my attention in that moment. I could feel you wanting my laughter, my friendship.

For a couple of weeks now, I’ve been fighting it. I’ve been avoiding giving you my eye contact, my attention. I felt you didn’t want it. I felt you’d given up on me and didn’t care to try to cultivate any relationship between us and, stubbornly, I said, “Fine.” Stubbornly, I avoided you. Stubbornly, I ignored you. Stubbornly, I put bricks back into place in a wall I thought you’d been working to tear down.

And today, I could’ve cried because I felt like you wanted my friendship again.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it a billion more times: making new friends is hard. It’s confusing and vulnerable and complicated and painful and terrifying. Stubbornly, I want to know: Do you want my friendship or do you not? It’s your choice.

Because I want yours.

-Melissa

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s