For me, this past month has been an emotional roller-coaster. I've laughed, I've cried, laughed so hard I cried. I've felt hyper, lethargic, energetic, lazy. I've felt faithless and hopeless, ecstatic and ambitious. Like a slob, like a neat-freak. Lonely, claustrophobic. Pretty much the emotional spectrum.
A few weeks ago, I decided to go to a hockey game. Not a big deal, right? Well, the people I was with were a little different from the people I normally spend time with. Don't get me wrong, different isn't a bad thing. But sometimes, it's really not my favorite. The ladies I was with had a tendency to swear---a lot. Luckily, the two that swore the most were sitting in front of me. At least, I thought it was lucky. Sitting in front of them were two
other women. These women were from the opposing team, a mother and a sister of the opposing goalie. Long story short, these women ended up being offended by the language of the women sitting behind them. Both sets of women ended up screaming at each other, some with poor language, all with poor judgement. In the end, the mother of the hockey player ended up attacking one of the girls in front of me. I don't think I have ever been in a situation that made me feel so ill. In two minutes, these women helped me to lose faith in the goodness of people, and in true kindness.
All I knew for sure is that I had to get out of there. I didn't care if I had to walk home, I just needed to leave. In my somewhat hysteric state, I texted a friend from home that also lives up here, asking if there was any way she could come and pick me up. She replied instantly, telling me that another friend from home was driving. I can't even begin to express the relief I felt. As I waited outside the ice rink, I began to feel less relieved, and more... nervous. My old friends, they've found their place up here. I didn't want to mess with that. The minutes that I was waiting for them were hardly any better than those spent in the ice rink itself... I don't think I've ever felt so unsure about asking a favor. My anxiety continued to grow in the three short minutes it took them to get there. I didn't know what to think when they came, I just knew I was a burden.
As soon as they pulled up, they rolled down the windows and called to me. The looks on their faces were not of annoyance, or condescension. The only things I saw in their faces were love and true caring. There was no "How the heck did you get into this situation?" or "Now, thanks to you, we're missing time with our new friends." as I got into the car. They could tell by my face that I was in no mood to talk about what had just happened. Sitting in the dark back seat, all the emotions I had felt within the last fifteen minutes bubbled over, and I began to cry. Quietly. I think. My concerned friends pretended to be ignorant of my emotions and just made wonderfully comfortable, clean, happy conversation. At the risk of sounding completely cheesy, the warm feeling that bubbled up inside of me was undeniable. My tears flowed in earnest at this point, more from happiness and relief than anything, though. I could see the friend driving periodically checking on me in the rear-view mirror. When we got near my street, he stole one more glance and said "I think it's time for a walk."
As I walked to the nearby elementary school with two of my best friends in the whole world, I felt a peace that I hadn't in quite a while. They single-handedly brought back my good attitude about people in general. Playing around on an elementary school playground with these wonderful people helped me in a way nothing else could.
My friends stayed with me until they knew I was feeling better. Then, they walked me home. Simple, but so important. Don't underestimate what you do.
