Tears

I hate crying, it always brings on a horrible headache and makes my eyes puffy and sting.  Luckily it is not something I do very often.  Up until this past year, I have only ever cried out of frustration.

The first time I ever cried was 1975, when I found my bride to be in bed with my best friend.  I was not hurt or angry, I could not feel that, but I could know betrayal and the frustration of not being able to kill two people whom were a huge part of my life.  My first tears ever and I have long since cursed myself for even shedding one over them.

I cried when my great-aunt died in 1998 - frustration at the evil of days man lives under.  She was married to the Danish dairy farmer whom I lived with every summer of my childhood and credit with making me whatever I am today.

When my grandmother died in 2008, it was the end of the people I cared for in my life.  She was the only person I had actually ever identified with, we were very much alike, both artists, both not understood by anyone in the family.  I lost my twin with her passing.  And I foresaw the frustration her loss would bring in my family and in my life.

At the daily frustration of dealing with my new daughter in 2011 and the blindness she possessed, unwilling to even see, much less admit truth. And God was pushing me to reach out to her - why then, why so important, she was so unwilling to listen or see anything other than what she chose to.  I am still at a bit of a loss on that one.

When Gaelic Girl assassinated me in June 2012 because there was only poison in her words and not truth.  Of course that was also the end of GG, though complete freedom awaits debt repayment, as fast as I am able.

And I have now been crying, for five straight day now, my first emotional tears of pain and heartbreak.  No not for me but for the travails of a friend.  And I try to reach out to help, no one should face crisis alone - but I am constantly pushed away.  A prayer item.  And maybe I have finally discovered what real friendship is - to have empathy for another.  Empathy hurts when you can understand ...

Last Wednesday, I was pretty much a wreck, to the extent that I even offered to tell one of my friends at church a tale he would never believe - if he bought breakfast on Thursday.  I needed someone to talk to.  He was too busy with something I will not go into here, let us just say it is one of evil's many ways to busting Christian kneecaps and he is currently not listening.  I retracted my offer in my mind, clearly I have no one I can count on anymore.  I get it, Kris is a little hard to care about or deal with; known that my whole life.  And so, I pray in a vacuum and live in a vacuum and there are no interactions other than just fluffy nonsense from my children or those currently my friends.  No reality from anyone.  I question God's constant pressure to remain here.  But, I am trying to mend fences right now with a friend whom faded away.

I do not like finding this Kris to be needy, having something now inside of me that wants/desires to be with or around someone, to hold someone special in my life.  This desire is alien to me. I fear this more and more, the closer I get to what might be normal.  And I see God's hand smacking me constantly to mold me into someone I have never been nor known - to an end I can not anticipate.  Death is so much more to be desired than this pain.

Of course, as time passes, so do "things".  Perhaps a small step can be made in healing the relationship with a friend today.