Musing on friendships
Jun. 6th, 2010 08:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trixtahSomeone has been posting a meme somewhere (here? I've lost track) about the best thing that anyone has ever done for you. There has been talk of special holidays, gifts, compliments, and so on.
The best thing that anyone has ever done for me was none of those things. And it was from a friend of mine, Rachel, who I'm no longer in touch with, but I have reasonable confidence that we'll pick things up from where they left off the next time we do get in touch. We've gone for years at a time - five or so - without being in regular touch, so this is nothing unusual.
Anyway, I was in a mutually violent and fucked up relationship with one particular g/f - it must be said that she started the violence, but I most certainly continued it in response. Why didn't I simply walk away? It tweaked a lot of my buttons - no one was going to assault me without my assaulting them back, goddamn it. Mixed up with "I'm not a victim", the fact I loved her very much, stupid butch pride and shame about what was going on with us.
First and only relationship where that has happened, by the way. And it will never happen again. I've always loathed violence, and that experience only helped me learn the ways in which I'd never end up in that position another time.
So, one night my ex and I had a particularly bad fight, and I was convinced there wasn't going to be much more before one of us killed the other. Seriously. She was drunk and incapable of coming after me (not that I told her where I was going), so I rang Rachel and told her I had to come over.
Rachel and her bf at the time were caretaking a hostel, so there was space for me to stay. I caught the bus over, in the rain, and ended up on their doorstep late in the evening - 10 or 11. She didn't ask me anything, but hugged me as soon as she opened the door. I told her things weren't good right now with T and I couldn't go back home that night. She and her bf made me tea and told me I could stay as long as I needed. She then took me into the made-up room, with the covers turned back, and held me while I didn't quite cry but shivered and gulped for a while.
So I stayed the night, talked a bit more with her the next day after a nurturing breakfast, and then went back home to sort out the latest round of shit. Rachel didn't press me for any gory details, and radiated a demeanour of knowing that I would be able to deal with the situation appropriately. That I was still an intelligent and capable adult worthy of her friendship.
My ex and I broke up shortly after that, and thank god, we mutually agreed it was best for both of us. (And man, I've had some interesting discussions during sex, sometimes!)
I will never ever forget the fact that I had somewhere to go in the middle of the night. That Rachel was there for me when I had never done anything comparable for her. It's incredibly precious, knowing that you have people to rely on that way. And that they care about you enough that they are there for you, if you need it.
So, it may not be the most out-there wonderful thing, and kind of what intimate friendship should be about, but for someone who is generally incredibly self-reliant, knowing the depth of care for me that it represents, is huge. Huge.
The best thing that anyone has ever done for me was none of those things. And it was from a friend of mine, Rachel, who I'm no longer in touch with, but I have reasonable confidence that we'll pick things up from where they left off the next time we do get in touch. We've gone for years at a time - five or so - without being in regular touch, so this is nothing unusual.
Anyway, I was in a mutually violent and fucked up relationship with one particular g/f - it must be said that she started the violence, but I most certainly continued it in response. Why didn't I simply walk away? It tweaked a lot of my buttons - no one was going to assault me without my assaulting them back, goddamn it. Mixed up with "I'm not a victim", the fact I loved her very much, stupid butch pride and shame about what was going on with us.
First and only relationship where that has happened, by the way. And it will never happen again. I've always loathed violence, and that experience only helped me learn the ways in which I'd never end up in that position another time.
So, one night my ex and I had a particularly bad fight, and I was convinced there wasn't going to be much more before one of us killed the other. Seriously. She was drunk and incapable of coming after me (not that I told her where I was going), so I rang Rachel and told her I had to come over.
Rachel and her bf at the time were caretaking a hostel, so there was space for me to stay. I caught the bus over, in the rain, and ended up on their doorstep late in the evening - 10 or 11. She didn't ask me anything, but hugged me as soon as she opened the door. I told her things weren't good right now with T and I couldn't go back home that night. She and her bf made me tea and told me I could stay as long as I needed. She then took me into the made-up room, with the covers turned back, and held me while I didn't quite cry but shivered and gulped for a while.
So I stayed the night, talked a bit more with her the next day after a nurturing breakfast, and then went back home to sort out the latest round of shit. Rachel didn't press me for any gory details, and radiated a demeanour of knowing that I would be able to deal with the situation appropriately. That I was still an intelligent and capable adult worthy of her friendship.
My ex and I broke up shortly after that, and thank god, we mutually agreed it was best for both of us. (And man, I've had some interesting discussions during sex, sometimes!)
I will never ever forget the fact that I had somewhere to go in the middle of the night. That Rachel was there for me when I had never done anything comparable for her. It's incredibly precious, knowing that you have people to rely on that way. And that they care about you enough that they are there for you, if you need it.
So, it may not be the most out-there wonderful thing, and kind of what intimate friendship should be about, but for someone who is generally incredibly self-reliant, knowing the depth of care for me that it represents, is huge. Huge.
