blurred lines

which is more important: to have people fulfill some equivalent criteria for what we value as important and right, or to be able to see what is beautiful in them and love them flawed and all? surely there are lines we draw, rightly so. there are things in my life i value and won't compromise, but it's a damn short list because i prefer possibility and i think room for growth only comes with an open heart and a good sense of humor.

during one of the most challenging times of my life, i was thrashed about in a sea of brutal wave after wave after wave of not water, but information. some people are better swimmers than others and i freely admit that it's dog paddle or drown for me - except i can tread water for a damn long time, and anyhow, i love the water.

she stood apart from the get go, and some folks bristled at her demeanor. she knew it, but sometimes it's this simple; we are who we are. i think she said something sharp one day, and i laughed. maybe we knew we'd be friends then, maybe it happened when i placed a clementine orange at her seat, a gesture that maybe surprised her. the smile that is proprietary to small children who have no use for defenses or facade is what blossomed on her face as she looked over her shoulder at me. things are not as they seem.

when i think back to that crazy time, it seems truly a lifetime ago. but i can still see her smiling, a scarf wrapped around her face, earplugs in, ignoring the lecturer and studying something else - the occasional smart ass text message popping up on my screen one row behind her. we'd try hard not to giggle out loud. i can remember as well the pained look on her face, when she couldn't look me in the eye for fear of expressing her thought of betrayal and that i could be on the other end of it - confused, she didn't want to believe it and i didn't understand and was hurt that she might think it of me. but i knew to give her room, let the dust settle and wait it out, because we were friends and things like this don't break friendships - not real ones, and not this one.

so why did i walk away without an explanation? a comment, text on a screen, rife for misinterpretation. an inappropriate remark that seemed so selfish, so harsh, so fucking wrong. I couldn't let it go, I refused to reply, I backed away - it was easy(er) from 3000 miles. who would say such a thing? did i want to be friends with someone who would say this? there are some lines we draw and rightly so, i thought.

the problem, i see now, was the sharp lines i inked; the rigid, unforgiving lines i stood on the other side of. if it meant that much, if i was to truly tow the line, i would have faced her and opened the door to explanation. i was offended, i shut the door on her. flawed, we are all flawed and all that's left to mend these bit and pieces is the very thing that's been the ground under foot the whole time; love.

from this quiet late night brooklyn apartment i am kept awake by the realization, clear and softly tapping on my chest, that it takes much more than a fucked up comment to crush love and that i can either toss it to the wind and continue to look east, or open that door. caught quite unaware with nothing to lose, i am pulling the pins out of the hinges. all you need to now my friend is walk through it.