Gratitude
I need to explain this with something that will sound as if it should be set to violin music (with perhaps a slow-mo closeup of a single tear rolling down my cheek), but I never had enough friends growing up. Do you know what I mean by that? I’ve had friends at every stage of life–I was never popular (in fact, I am quite certain that few people from high school remember me and the proof is in the number of people who stared at me quizzically at reunion, their head cocked to the side as they said, “we were really in physics together? We were lab partners?”) but I wasn’t unpopular. When I got to college and I heard about other people’s middle school or high school years, I realized I got off pretty easy in comparison. But just because I had friends–and good friends at that–I never felt as if I had enough friends.
I am greedy like that.
It’s that feeling you get when you sit down to eat, fully expecting to be satiated by the end of the meal, especially when you see the amount of food at your disposal. But you walk away from the table with this gnawing hunger still present. And what is it? A failure of my own body to not recognize that there is food in my stomach? A true need unfulfilled? How do you know if it’s something wrong with you or something truly missing?
The same could be said for my heart. I had friends and I obviously connected with people and loved many. I’ve never consciously known what was missing or looked for it (or, more accurately, known how to look for it). It was always this small emptiness, a tiny gap of air in the heart. In my mind, I imagined everyone I love squeezed into atriums and ventricles, bodies locked against each other as I carried them inside my chest. And somewhere, free-floating through that mass of love, a tiny space. A pocket of emptiness. And absence searching for a presence.
And I realized as I read those blogoversary comments that it’s gone. The little bubble is gone.
I drove around for an hour and twenty minutes this morning, misled by Google maps and a mislabeled street. I stopped for directions four times, each time being sent farther and farther from my destination until, after the start time of the concert, a man outside of Blockbuster video informed me that I was “miles and miles away, man.” We turned around and headed home.
In the hour and twenty minutes, I tossed around this thought in my head: what you took notice of, it is all part of carrying that bubble for so long. I am so acutely aware of what it feels like when your heart isn’t full. I never want anyone to feel that way when there is something so simple we can do: reach out and show care and remove the small empty spaces that collect inside the heart.
Everyone deserves to be full.
Ah, fuck, you already knew my kumbaya-ness. And now, there is my period to contend with as well. Thank you. I will never be able to put into words how much those comments meant to me.
25 comments
Lovely Lolly,
You get what you give.
Love,
Lavender Luz
I am glad to hear that your heart feels full and I am still listening.
I agree, Mel. We only love you cause you love first!! 🙂
Lollipop Goldstein – the most popular girl in the class!!
Sometimes, Lolly, you just blow me away with the clarity and wisdom with which you can speak your heart. This post just did it again. You are a blessing to me, to our community and to the world. I’m so glad you really felt all the love yesterday.
Ha! You just made kumbaya-ness an adjective! bvv Nice.
I’ve been blogging for about a month now and know what you’re talking about– that no one should feel empty. Reaching out this way has helped me so much these last few weeks, and it is nice to know that here are people out there who *get* my situation, and who are rooting for me.
Also, I have taken the spirit of NaComLeavMo to heart recently and have been leaving as many comments as I can… You’re rubbing off!
You explained this so very well. Know that you’ve accomplished your goal, because my tiny empty space was filled the moment I found others and others found me in this spaced you’ve carved out for us.
It’s gratitude – like Lori said – you get what you give. Thanks again.
*mwuah* We love you, too, Lolly! You, and your great ideas, and your warm wishes, and your heartfelt kumbaya-ness.
I’m linking arms with the other campmates & joining in the chorus…!
You are too amazing! Thanks for being so wonderful. Keep on keeping on, sister!
I don’t think there are enough hours in the day or words in the English language to tell you how much I love you.
You = pure awesomeness.
That is all.
Now THAT is gonna make me cry.
and in the end, the love you take
is equal to the love you make…
Gratitude and fullness. Two of the best things in the world.
So it isn’t just me that finds that Google Maps aren’t as good as they used to be????
I was out and didn’t get to your posts until today and I wanted to say, well, thank you. It’s your blog that got me reaching out from my blog and that’s fulfilled me to the rim (with brim. couldn’t help it).
Anywho. so happy blogiversary and a big hearty thank you.
Hi, I’m new here. 🙂 I hope your heart also overflows with love, joy and laughter. It’s the best feeling the world!
Happy blogiversary! 🙂
Wow…you had me tearing up on that one…partly because you’re such an eloquent writer…and partly because I feel as if I could have written it myself.
It’s an amazing feeling to know you’re loved, isn’t it? And you definitely are, my friend. You are.
(Laughing my a$$ off over here because my verification word spoken seriously sounds like “bucket fuck”! HA!)
I’m going out on a limb here, and will speak for all of us who visit you:
It’s pretty impossible to put into words what you have done for us.
Just… keep doing it… (please.)
Swending you lots of love, always!
I am *still* listening. 🙂
“Everyone deserves to be full.”
Indeed!
Lolly, you are my favoritist ever. My heart feels full when I read you spreading your love.
Sista, this world we have really helps doesn’t it:-)
OK, so I just stumbled across your blog. I maybe a year late for this entry but I had to comment. You hit it on the head. I was never popular in school, but never unpopular either. Not sure how to explain it. But I think you did a great job of doing that for the both of us. Thanks.
Renee
I am so relieved that someone else knows about that emptiness. Thank you. I don’t feel so alone in having that feeling.