Ball In Play: Cost/Benefit In The F of F, L, and C

Here's a new benefit I got last night in a turbulent beginning to a new friendship: communication where I got to say what I need and didn't get laughed at or get an eye-rolling.

Communication. Really.

I got to say what I need and was listened to.

I was stunned.

Perhaps you've met this guy. Remember FG?

From FG and SG?

So, even though FG isn't getting sex, he still wants to be with me. Trouble is, FG has a HUGE array of problems he is dealing with:

• They are closing his branch and his job may either be eliminated or he may be moved to a different branch. His chances are about even.
• He is going through a divorce.
• He has friends that he is trying to get rid of because he knows that they are bad for him, and they are making it difficult because they know he makes life easy for them. (Um, where have I heard that befo--never mind)
• His family expects him to bail them out of their problems
• Because of all of these things, his heart is a bit off, in addition to his soul

In addition to this list, he doesn't really want to talk about this list. He wants to be with me because when he is with me he finds peace. When we are together we don't talk. We just sit together and breathe. Breathing is sometimes the simplest peace that we have, and the greatest joy.

There is one more thing.

I have this problem of entering relationships and forgetting to write--giving up my identity for others. Those who have known that I am a writer either have to be reminded every time we talk or have advice on how to write or what to write for (which is wonderful if they are writers, but when they aren't they just have a romanticized picture of writing and expect me to follow the advice based on that impression), or roll their eyes ("Another one who thinks she's a writer" "Have you published anything?").

So I had given up my writing to sit by a phone after work for time to talk to FG. Except he is dealing with all of his problems. So I become resentful and wonder when I will see him and if this is really a friendship and I start flailing. I tell him that I could be writing instead of sitting by the phone waiting for him to call.

"Yes, you could," he says. "And why aren't you?"

What?

"I want you to write. I want you to do what you love."

But what if I miss your call?

"Then we'll talk another time. We will call each other back as soon as we can. But write. I will be here when you're done."

O...kay...are you from this planet? Or, for starters from this country? What happened to keeping me in the back pocket until you were ready? What happened to having to be reminded?

He never asks me what I write, even though he spent most of his adolescence in the library or talking to his teachers. He just knows that I love to write. He hasn't asked to read it, either. He just knows that I love to write.

But he remembers that I love to write. I don't have to tell him.

It's like breathing for me, and he wants me to breathe.

To over-simplify, but in doing so seeing beginning stage:

Cost - He has a life framed in violence and drama that he is trying to leave

And

Benefit - He likes me just the way I am and doesn't try to bend me. He sees me as wonderful under the status quo, with joy in improvements and support in falls.

I'm not head over heels because of the cost. I'm proud to be with him because of the benefit.

And for the first time since I started blogging and met great friends that way I am so excited to see where this goes.

More as I keep writing. Patience.

Selah, and sleep well.