"The Friend Box"

I was thinking about many things today. I was thinking about something a friend of mine said in a letter to me this summer about how i know how to make her feel better because i replace the broken pieces of her heart with pieces of my own heart. I think this is a really wonderful picture of what friends can do for each other. we can heal each other but we have to be willing to share bits of ourself and trust they will be replenished in return should we ever need them.

i was also thinking about this dreadful habit i have of trying to give these pieces of myself to people who either don't want or don't deserve them...that never works out very well. anyway, from these thoughts came this (slightly morbid and depressing) story. i am sorry it is remarkably poorly written. eesh. but it is just what fell out of my head at 2 am. anyway, here it is...

"The Friend Box"

once there was a girl. She was like most other girls; nothing extraordinary, not someone who turned heads or would stand out in a crowd, But this girl had a friend. it was a new friend, but it was someone who she thought she could be there for, and one day when her friend was feeling down she cut off a lock of her hair and put it in a box which she then gave to him and she said, "here. this is something soft to comfort you when you feel sad".

He took the box from her hands and thanked her.

On another occasion her friend was feeling lost, so she cut off her index finger and put it in the box and said, "here. this is for when you have lost your way and need some direction".

he took the box and thanked her.

still the next time she saw this friend he was feeling blinded so she carefully removed one of her eyes and put it in the box then she gave it to her friend saying, "here. this is for when you can't see and you need another viewpoint"

he took the box and thanked her.

and yet, the next time she saw him he was feeling insignificant, so she cut off her ear and put it in the box saying, "here. this is so you know someone is always listening to you"

he took the box and thanked her.

and the next time she visited him he was lonely so she cut out a piece of her heart and she put it in the box and said, 'here. this is so you always know that no matter what happens you are loved".

he took the box and he thanked her.

after visiting this friend so many times the girl had begun to become weak and the next time she saw him she said, "i care for you so much that i have given you all these pieces of me to help you along and i suppose i hoped that after i gave you enough pieces the box would weigh enough to matter and you would realize that in order for both of us to thrive you would have to share pieces of yourself so that my hair would be full, and i would have all ten fingers to point my direction, and i could see clearly, and hear the music in the world, and my heart would be whole because you would have filled the empty space with a piece of your own"

the boy said nothing. and he silently rose from his seat and walked to his room where there lay on his shelf a neat collection of boxes from various other friends who had offered up pieces of themselves. all of them remained sealed and unused. he retrieved the box the girl had filled up and returned all of her pieces without a word.

grasp.

it has been nearly the entire month of august and i haven't posted any blogs...not that anyone would notice...but i don't like it. i was thinking to myself about the reason i haven't written anything and i came to some conclusions. first of all, besides the blogs about random things i appreciated that day or silly things i like, i generally blog about things that have been on my mind for awhile, things i have spent time thinking about and figuring out and making opinions on. I don't like to mindlessly say things and i like to have reasons for what i am thinking. but why nothing this month? my mind has been just as active and thoughtful. as someone told me today, "you think a lot", and yes i certainly do, probably more than one should...but as of late i feel like i can't grasp my own thoughts. i feel like there are so many bounding about in my head and ricocheting around in my mind that i can't slow any of them down to identify or analyze them. they slip right through my grasp and they land just beyond my reach. Sometimes for a brief moment i will catch one and i will think, "yes, i have some things to say about that. i think i shall blog about it" but of course once the time has come to sit down and gather the thoughts together i have forgotten what i was thinking about in the first place and that beautiful, silvery thought that was mine alone has now floated away again to somewhere only i can find it, but i have lost the map.