Facebook friends

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . December 18, 2009 . 9:43AM

I’ve never done well with keeping friends for long periods of time. I think much of this has to do with several integral factors in my life. I grew up on a farm and, most of that time, I played on my own. I’m also highly introverted, by nature, and I often prefer my own thoughts to the thoughts of others. It’s not that I don’t care what you think, it’s just that the noise in my own head is so strong that your noise would be overwhelming. I like quiet and solitude and small groups of people. I like to go out, but infrequently. My profession is one-on-one and that connection is important to me in so many ways. It fits me.

It never occurred to me that the people I’d left along the way weren’t really gone. For the longest time I was such a black and white thinker that I’d written those relationships off as lost to me.

And then I found Facebook. Because I’m an introvert, social networking draws me like flies to honey. I can speak to people quickly and efficiently, which also hits my firstborn tendencies, and feel like I’m connecting without losing the energy that I lose in face-to-face interaction.

And then I started exploring.

And found the little girl from down the farm road that I used to play with often. I road my green bike with the banana seat to her house frequently. And not only did she remember me, but she was delighted to hear from me. We still had the connection that we had even then.

And I found the first friends I had when I finally started elementary school. And then those when I moved to a new town.

I found my first group of friends from middle school. We were so close for those four years. It was like we picked up where we left off. The best friendships are always like that, aren’t they?

I found my high school best friends and my college best friends. I found people who weren’t best friends, but that I like more as adults than I did as children. They have grown into amazing people that I love.

Through other social networking sites I have found people that I love more and more each day.

For me, I think it was just a reminder that, though there are times I feel alone and have certainly felt alone in the past, I never was. They were with me. They missed me. They were there.

And they still are.

A fairytale: Green eyes and brown eyes Part II

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 26, 2009 . 10:40AM

Green eyes was a computer programmer in his spare time. For someone so young, this was a pretty big accomplishment. The brown-eyed girl didn’t understand the fascination, but she was into green eyes and watched as he explained the coding sequence for a program he’d completed on his computer. She leaned forward and tried to understand what he was saying. As he pointed to the screen, he turned to her, smiled, leaned in towards her and….

Perverts. I’m not telling you about that. It was a special moment and you can go make your own.

The brown-eyed girl smiled and took his hand. From the other room, she heard his friend yell, “Did you kiss her yet? Have you asked her out? Is it official? C’mon man, I don’t have all night. Just do it!” She laughed and blushed, as did he.

Days turned to weeks and over the winter holiday they spent much time together. They had the same group of friends, so they were able to spend time apart without it overwhelming them or feeling threatened, as so many do at that age. However, they found it hard to find time alone and decided to get creative.

Just outside of town was a farm area that sat atop a hill and next to a wooded area. The snow was crisp and she would slowly pull her crimson colored car to the edge of the woods. He would sit on the hood of her car and she would lean against him as he held her. They would make up stories of wolves and ax-men and all of the things that might be in the woods. Really, it was an excuse to look at the stars and the trees and the beautiful, snow covered hilly area. Never in her life had the brown-eyed girl been happier.

However, all good things must come to an end. At the end of the holiday vacation, Green eyes called her. It was clear from the tone of his voice that he’d been crying. He told her that his father had been relocated and that they were moving in less than a month.

She was crushed. She was losing him just as she’d found him. She was also losing her best friend.

Their parents were very supportive; Perhaps moreso than they should be have been in a situation with teenagers so young. You don’t need to know the details, but they tried to make it work. They tried desperately, but with over 600 miles separating them, and before free nights and weekends, it was not possible to maintain the relationship. Reluctantly, the brown-eyed girl said good-bye.

Both moved on and found happiness elsewhere, but years later, with the accessibility of the internet, found one another again. The brown-eyed girl was newly married and the green-eyed boy was, again, miles and miles away. They agreed to keep in touch.

And they do.

Some connections remain, regardless of time and circumstance.

A fairytale: Green eyes and brown eyes Part I

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 22, 2009 . 11:41AM

Once upon a time, there was a young woman with dark brown hair and eyes. She’d been best friends with a boy with bright green eyes and dark hair for many months. They’d met through her first boyfriend (the same one that dumped her out of canoe) and had become fast friends. There was an instant connection between them, though they seemed opposites in many ways.

He was into alternative music and she loved mainstream pop. He embraced the baggy clothes style of the mid-90s and she was a prep through and through. He was quiet and sweet-natured and she was outgoing and acerbic, though, later, she would realize that her true self was also quiet, as well. What they had in common, however, was their ability to just be together and enjoy the company of each other.

The girl liked the boy, but because he was friends with the boy she’d dated, she didn’t allow herself to feel everything she wanted to feel for him. One night, they drove around their small town and stopped by a store. There were beaded bracelets that came with the comment that if you made a wish on them and placed them around your wrist, when they fell off, your wish would come true. The boy, with a sparkle in his eye, suggested that the girl get the one in green. It matched his eyes exactly.

She shyly bought the bracelet and made a wish. Not for him, but that she would feel loved. There were many days in that time that she didn’t. She placed it around her wrist and waited. It was October.

A month came and went and the two remained friends. She showed him the places that she liked to go when she needed quiet and they did the things teenagers do. They went out and explored private property that had warnings like “If we catch you, we will shoot first and ask questions later.” They weren’t the smartest teenagers in the world. They explored places like cornfields and lay on their backs looking at the stars. He gave her piggyback rides through the rows and she laughed like a child.

One day, the two were at a school assembly and were, of course, sitting together as they always did. They were the best of friends and their other friends had noticed that they had become consumed by one another. In the middle of the assembly, she felt a tug on her wrist. The green bracelet fell off her wrist and she looked up into his bright green eyes. He smiled his easygoing grin and removed his hand from her wrist. “Now,” he said, “whatever you wished can come true.”

She blushed, because she was the shy sort at that time, and looked away. She may have mumbled something like, “We’ll see” and left it at that. He asked her to come over later that night and she replied that she would after her homework. When she got to his house, he was going down the hill on his makeshift snowboard with one of his friends. The powdery snow coated everything, like a wintery fairyland.

As she watched them go down the hill, she began to grow cold and couldn’t prevent her teeth from chattering. He walked up to her and softly moved the hair from her face and put his arms around her to pull her close. This wasn’t something new to her. He often held her close, as friends do. Something felt different about this time. He put his head into the small of her neck and told her that after the last run they would go inside and talk.

However, as anyone who has tried to snowboard realizes, the inexperienced often fall and he tumbled hard. As the wind was knocked out of him, she was already sliding down the slippery hill towards him, as was his friend. When she got to him, he laughed. She took his hand, helped him up and they went inside.

A fairytale: The redneck and the city girl

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 12, 2009 . 9:30AM

Once upon a time, in a small town in Illinois, a girl went on a canoe trip. She went with her very first boyfriend and their large group of friends on an incredibly fun camping trip. By camping, they actually stayed in a motel but also went canoeing, built campfires and spent time together in a crazy group of hormones and drama and excitement. It was all of the things that a group of teenage drama addicts would be drawn to like a moth to a flame. It was a setup for a nightmare.

Of course, with the excitement of a new relationship, the girl and the boy chose to canoe together, against the sage advice of the adults in the group. A man that the girl loved and respected very much warned her that the relationship wouldn’t last the weekend if they sat in that canoe. She smiled, hugged him and sat down with a smile. Because he loved her like a father, he kept his mouth shut and said no more.

All of the teenagers in the group knew the girl couldn’t swim well. She could keep her head above the water when necessary, but beyond that, she would have difficulty. Luckily, the boy could swim well and he assured her that if the canoe tipped, he would be well equipped to save her from danger. She trusted the boy and picked up her paddle and began to stroke. She never anticipated anything bad would come from the day. The sun was shining and she and the boy were doing well.

Until 2 hours later when conversation began to get heated. The boy had difficulty paddling and the girl was exasperated with this as her steering was flawless. The water was entering a difficult passage of particularly deep water and the girl was getting nervous with the amount of rocking in the canoe. The boy had begun to paddle with choppy strokes, due to his frustration, and the girl looked at the water with trepidation. She begged him to calm down, but he snapped at her and she snapped back at him and then…

She was in the water. It was cold and she couldn’t touch the bottom. She opened her eyes, though the water was muddy and she couldn’t see anything except a tree branch directly in front of her eyes. It was at that moment that she felt the branch grasping her ankle. She thrashed her head to the left and to the right, and realized she was in trouble when she saw the large tree to her right. She tried to move upward and, as she hit her head, she realized that she was under the canoe and her breath was running out. She jerked on her ankle over and over and couldn’t move. She heard shouting and realized that there were people coming for her, but they couldn’t find her and they might be too late. She’d had dreams of drowning, but never anticipated it to be like this. As her breath ran out and she began to feel dizzy, she twisted her ankle free and kicked away from the tree.

As she came up for air, the first thing she saw was the boy. He was laughing. As this was a very strong-willed girl, her best friend stood between them as the girl was going to go show him exactly what she thought of him. Her friend said that the boy had rocked the canoe on purpose, and that he hadn’t realized she was stuck beneath the canoe. The sage father-figure was right. The relationship was over and the boy’s life nearly ended that day.

As such, the girl no longer trusted the boy, for good reason, and could no longer canoe with him as the urge to end him was strong. She needed a new partner to canoe and she needed someone who was even tempered and who would not attempt to drown her for laughs. A quiet boy, cousin to her best friend, volunteered with a “Hey, y’all, I’ll switch canoes. You don’t even have to paddle unless we need to turn a corner. As long as you talk to me and keep me company, I’ll do all the work.”

Sold.

Randy (not the boy’s real name) was a farm boy from a town about 70 miles away from where the girl lived. The girl had grown up on a farm, but had moved to a less rural area about 4 years earlier. She took a shine to his cheekiness and gladly hopped in his canoe. They were carrying one of the coolers, so his flipping the canoe seemed unlikely. There was something about him that seemed genuine and kind and she trusted him.

They talked all day. Early in the conversation, Randy looked at the girl and said, “By gosh, I think yer a real city girl, aren’t ya?” She laughed and said, “I’m no redneck, that’s for sure.” And City Girl and Redneck were born. City Girl kept her end of the bargain and paddled when necessary. Redneck used his farm boy muscles and paddled the whole way without complaint. Conversation never lagged and the canoe moved smoothly through the water.

Throughout the rest of the weekend, they stuck together like peas and carrots. Though they had little in common besides their ability to talk to one another freely and without judgment, the weekend went smoothly. As 15-year olds did, at the time, they exchanged addresses and telephone numbers. They did not have email and Redneck wouldn’t have used it if they did. He was too busy rebuilding cars and spending time with his faithful dog. City girl was technologically stupid.

They wrote back and forth for several years, but, as time often does, it got the better of them. They saw each other last when the sage father figure passed from a particularly malevolent form of cancer. The girl was broken-hearted. As she walked into the dinner hall, for the family meal, as she was considered family, she saw him. He walked up to her and hugged her tightly and held her. Then he softly held her back, looked her up and down, smiled that Redneck grin and said, “CITY GIRL! How the hell are ya?”

Yes, time moves forward, but out there in the universe are a Redneck and City Girl. Both are married with children and not to one another. It never would have worked because it’s not how it was supposed to be. But City Girl looks at a letter and a picture of a boy next to an old car and a dog, often, and smiles when she remembers how a Redneck gained her trust and her lifelong friendship.

And they both lived Happily Ever After.

The End.

P.S. None of these pictures are the picture the City Girl has of the Redneck. She’s saving that one all to herself.

Friday Confessional: I don’t know how to let him go

by Jillian @ http://blueshelled.com . October 2, 2009 . 9:19AM

I don’t know how to let him go. He’s not a baby anymore and it’s becoming more and more apparent that he’s growing up.

I remember the terror I felt the first time I realized that he no longer had the baby scent.

And then the first time he smelled. I mean really smelled. As in “go take a shower you smell.”

And the first time he actually met my mouth instead of my chin or my nose when he gave me a kiss.

And all the small things that I find myself now terrified of losing: his hand when he crosses the street, the goodnight kisses, when he falls asleep in our bed–his little hand searching for my shoulder and the sweet smiles in his sleep when I say his name and tell him I love him, the first time he’s embarrassed when I tell him I love him in front of his friends, or the first time he doesn’t rush to greet me when he comes home from school.

Every stage of his life has been my favorite. He’s my favorite. He’s always been my favorite. No one makes me laugh as hard as him. He has my sense of humor. Of course I’m going to think he’s hilarious. He’s thoughtful and serious and sensitive and laughs at fart jokes because they are hysterical. They are. I don’t care what you think. THEY ARE HYSTERICAL. Prudes.

I don’t know how to let him go. But I will because I love him with quiet desperation and care. And the day will come when he has to let me go, too. Loving someone means that you will eventually feel the loss that comes with letting go. And I’m scared to death.