Smorgasbord is a Real Place

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Pumpkins are the most loyal friend a man or woman can have.

I have been writing as if for myself lately, but it needs to be stretched, so I’m posting it on here. It’s not diary material by any means or a cheap dump. But I wanted to share my serious talks with myself as they’ve surfaced lately. So yes, smorgasbord is a real place you can be. How are you? I’m smorgasbord thanks.

It’s hard to write about topics as seen below, because talking about love makes me cringe because it is hardly ever done right, and it reminds me of former goopy-ish writings from teenage versions of me. Only that’s not what this is.

For someone to love you in a way and to come to the conclusion, “It is important for me to see–and be entirely confident–you know how I love you very much.” For someone to not want you to miss that. This is the love I miss. Most of the time, in our inability to rise to the occasion, even the feeling of love is placed off on the other person. So if they don’t know you love them it’s because they just aren’t seeing it, or you shouldn’t have to tell them or have any responsibility in them knowing it. Closer to the truth, it barely involves us at all. If I think of how often I say, “I love you” it would be at least a couple of times a day at the end of phone conversations. But I don’t remember saying I love you to someone and leaning into the meaning behind the words, patiently not escaping the uncomfortableness of what comes after. We don’t linger long enough in the presence of those words or our intentionality to inhabit what they will do. We don’t stick around to see them testify for us-or to us-that there was an appealing exchange. We make our love-drop for the other person to pick up. Our feelings don’t remain attached to us because we can’t bear the result, so the finished work is never made. And its better that way because we both can move on, breathing a sigh of relief, because we did it. We showed someone we indeed love, but we didn’t have to feel it.

Not a change of friends, but a change of their inner functionality and I’m not talking swapping Cowboys for Space Rangers:

A lot of my friendship-seats in my mind have been reserved for my closest friends, but my closest friends aren’t choosing to sit in those seats. I wonder if all of this time if I keep the spots open, waiting for a person who isn’t coming back because they aren’t in my life anymore in a physical way. What if someone else would like to sit in those spaces. What if I relabeled them 20-minute parking? It reminds me of the scene in You’ve Got Mail where Kathleen Kelly is saving the seat for NY152, but Joe Fox shows up. She has no idea he is the one who she has been saving the seat for. In her mind, she is waiting for someone else to come, but they already came. I want to open up some new seats. My best friends aren’t coming to take them, and they don’t care that I have saved a seat for them. But it’s a team effort in our wrongness. I’m wasting my time. I want to give the deserved seats even possibly to people I haven’t met yet. It doesn’t mean I need or want new best friends. They will always be my best friends, but it means I need to let go of the places in my heart people don’t want to take. It is my heart to leave a space for them, but it they don’t want it I want to use my heart to benefit someone who really would appreciate and grow from the love that’s there.

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