Soul Search

I just caught up with the journal of a friend (whom I won't disclose because he asked me not to). I have read many journals, but his is one of my favourites... because it is so raw and real and honest. I try to be as real and honest as possible in my blog, but mine overprocessed cheese compared to his. (There I go again. Girl stuff. Pathological comparing.)

I mean, people always tend to present themselves in the best light, or at least justify their actions and thoughts in some way, and I guess I do that a lot, and I despise that, even though it's only human. Especially for people like me who never got over the angst and self-esteem issues.
And there is this thing about writing. It's permanent somehow, and it weighs more when written down. And even though I shouldn't be, I feel self-conscious about some stuff I blog, and some stuff I never put out here even though it is what is in me, and it's ugly, or it is lame, or sounds pretentious. Like the way I despise my mother, and how I would turn this into a slag-off fest, if I opened the blog-vents on her. Or like I overanalyse myself to understand why I do the things I do, and why I keep being so compulsively stupid about so many things.

Some stuff I have written in the past I've been criticised for, and while it does not put me off writing too much, it makes me a tad... careful. More self-monitoring, I guess, but then again I feel like a fake for it.
My friend isn't like that, and what I like about him and his blog is that he reminds me that I don't have to apologise for the way I am, and that he makes me realise how utterly sick I am of apologising for what I think and feel. That's another thing to put me into self-analysis mode: why the fuck do I do that?
My friend doesn't do it - on the contrary, he is painfully honest and does not apologise for anything... if there is anything remotely self-justifying in his blog, it is only because he tries to make sense of his thoughts, not because he feels like he has to explain himself to anyone. I totally admire that.

The way I know him in "real life" is that he is a fun bloke, in a dark way, but he won't talk much to people about how he feels in his core. We had hardly ever talked, really. Until this one day, on messenger, we talked more... and he gave me the link to his journal.

And hell, when I read it, it tore my heart out. It was like seeing a whole different side to him... but one I had always sensed was there.

I dunno how to describe it. It is somehow wonderful to get such a deep insight into a person and somehow unite it with the image I have of him in our "real life" interaction, and realise that one can only look so much deeper into a person when talking face to face. I know it's a public journal, but I do feel honored that he trusted me enough to let me read that stuff... because some of it is so... emotionally intense... dark... deep... and it's not that it is in a pretentious way... it is so amazing because it is the real him, and on one hand it breaks my heart reading some of it, but at the same time I see who he really is, with all his facets, without any masks and silences, and it just makes me grateful to know him and appreciate his humanity, and see the hint of what he is like as a whole.

It is like that day, years back, when I went to my friend Peter, because I desperately needed to talk to someone, and I felt I could trust him, even though I didn't know him very well yet... and how I told him about that I had just found out my parents were gonna get divorced, and I burst out in tears in front of him, and after he comforted me, he said: "You have totally spoilt my day... but I am glad you did."
I know now what Peter meant when he said that...

And now I know who he (my friend) reminds me of. My "Dallas brother" Tanner. Tanner is one of the sweetest lads I know. But he is also one of the most shut-down people I know.
You know, sometimes you see people who seem to have a wall around them, but often, in their case, it is not to hide a past or lock away emotion, but to hide that there isn't anything behind that wall. That they're just empty vessels.
But then there are people like Tanner and my friend, and even though they seem impenetrable, you can see the richness of their being glowing through. You know, an empty vessel sounds different from a full one. It's not a tangible thing, but it can be sensed nevertheless.
When I learnt about Tanner, I began to see how his being and his past and all the things about him fit together. And there is this odd thing: when you begin to see people as a whole, see how they "work", see their soul, no - see the whole entity of their body, minds, souls and history - then you just can't help but love them.

God it sounds so cheesy. And don't get me wrong, I am totally NOT in love with either Tanner or my friend. It's more like a feeling of sensing who exactly they are, even if I will never see the whole picture, and loving all of it, no matter what, for who they are, and wanting them to be happy and well, and wanting to do everything to contribute to that. Being happy with them when they are happy, and being sad with them when they are sad, because you see them in some way like you see yourself, knowing they are, just like you, this being in its own world, who essentially wants the same thing you want... just to love and be loved in return without having to be afraid. You mourn for the scars on their souls the way you mourn for your own. And if you had them known as babies, in this way, the way I know my niece Jessie, you would have killed to keep their innocense alive.

I think there is coming more... more thoughts about this, and about brothers... but I will need some time to think about it.