Barrier

She sat in front of me; her legs neatly crossed and said, “Can I tell you something?” I nodded and watched her hands as she talks about her life, spiraling into hurt and betrayal. I watched her face fill with pain and sadness and instinctively, I vowed to myself to never let her be alone like that. In turn, I told her about my life. I told her about my failures with little opportunity to rise above. She nodded her head and smiled, jumping up to dance to a song. Her laughter quickly contradicting her tear filled eyes, but I take it as a revelation.

            A week later, we met up again and I listened to her aches and pains, but this time I was left with no room to let her know that she wasn’t alone. Those words sounded redundant anyways. I watched her avoid an assignment by watching a movie, her small body folded up in the corner of the couch. Eventually, she met my good friends, taking them on tow of her own life. Her tears met their critique and her gaze turned into betrayal once again. She whispered about my good friends and my good friend whispered about her to me. Suddenly I was torn and all I wanted to do was to return to when we were smiles. I retreated into silence.

            My good friend told me about her unwillingness, his analysis breaking my heart, but confusing me as well. Who was telling the truth? The turning point would be my decision. Her calls and texts were desperate, shouting for someone to listen to. She begged and cried from a distance as she wondered about the meaning of life. Life was too tough. Life was unfair. Life was against her. I spoke to her in truth and told her to hang in there. You have to power through. You have the strength. It will be better in the future. My advice got lost in the distance and I continued to hear her pain without progression.

            At a point in my life when my health was my main concern and my hands would tremble and my eyes would fill because of my worries, she would leave me by quoting that I was the one who abandoned her. I threw my hands up in despair because I was the one who didn’t need the stress. I didn’t need the confusion anymore. I didn’t need her unwillingness. I needed someone who would help. I needed someone who did it without a reward, someone genuine and intentional. It wasn’t a game. Through the distance, through two hours and two people, I told her good-bye after a discussion that friendship was not a game. I told myself it was for the better. I argued with myself and told myself that it was for my sanity. In my head, the vow I made when I met her haunted me even to this day. I wonder if she let the difficulties of life over take her. I wonder if I made the right decision. I used the distance as a barrier and it remains that way.