Mission: Possible

Hey, e-friends!

I’m back today with a topic that’s always circled in my head. Especially after the month I’ve had, it’s been pretty loud inside my mind and of course, the only way to let it out is this, writing about it (don’t you know it?)

That topic is… friendship. Sometimes even friendship vs. romantic relationships. I have a fear that I don’t understand relationships well enough to have them. I love connection, I adore intimacy (even if I’m quite selective with it), but relationships have always boggled my mind. The existence of them, the intersecting of boundaries, and the way different levels blur into one another…

And that’s been the theme for the past month.
Why do I not understand it?
Do I understand it but overthink it?
Why is it easier for other people?
Am I just dramatic?

And the questions go on and on.

In the middle of all that, I asked my dear friend to come over.

Normal, right? Not to me. Because even “normal outings” often come with anticipation. With that low hum of what is this actually going to be about? What will we talk about? Should I ask for a buffer? Naah… but should I?

Keep in mind, lovely readers, that this is one of my closest friends, someone who I see quite often, but still… my body just braces.

Then, the day before, she sent me a voice note and started it with: “Preview of the topics I want to discuss when I see you…”

And a smile just immediately formed on my face while my body relaxed before my brain even caught up.

It felt like something in my head just went click. My shoulders dropped. My jaw unclenched. I felt peaceful, calm.

Which sounds a bit dramatic for a single voice note, but it wasn’t the content that moved me, it was the gesture. Someone choosing not to ambush me. Being offered structure instead of surprise.

And that took my thoughts somewhere else. It made me feel seen. Like my inner world wasn’t something to barge into, but something to knock on. Gently.

And I realized how rare that feeling is.

I had just finished watching The Roses (which is incredible, by the way), and I was already in that post-movie headspace where you start asking yourself the question. What do I actually want? I don’t want to tolerate. I don’t want to romanticize. What do I want?

And the answer felt embarrassingly clear.

This.
This exact feeling.

I don’t want intensity. I don’t want chaos or the adrenaline of decoding someone in real time. I don’t want mystery disguised as depth. I don’t want to walk into conversations already braced for impact.

I want previews.
I want clarity.
I want to know what room I’m walking into.

To me, this felt like the ultimate goal.

And then it turned inward, the way realizations always do.

But do I, the entitled little human, offer this?

And I remembered a time not long ago when I was hurt by someone. So hurt that I shut down completely. For a full day.

At the time, it felt protective. Necessary, even.

But now I see it differently.

Yes, I eventually came back and told them what was wrong. But in between, I had left them alone with uncertainty. With anxiety. With that awful feeling of not knowing what they’d done, or if they’d done anything at all.

This voice note showed me the kind of care I want to receive, and most importantly, the kind I want to practice. The kind that says: I care enough about you to give you context. To let you breathe. To not make you question.

I know what you’re thinking dear readers, and yes, this is a lot of feelings for a single voice note. But apparently, this is where I’m at right now.

See you soon, lovelies, be gentle,

XOXO

FFB