Look Me in the Eye…
“With a pang, he realized that to make it all seem real, he needed someone there who could meet his eye and know the whole journey to that point.” -Conn Iggulden, The Gates of Rome
I could be jealous, I really could, but I’m not. Not really.
Usually when I write an post like this, about my tragically sad upbringing and the horrors realized within, some say, “Oh I’m sorry it was and is so ghastly to be you.” Seriously though, I don’t write so you get the feelies for me, but it does mean much to me to figure out… you know, things and stuff. I also understand that people aren’t clamoring to the door of Stranger in Rebellion to read the next thing. When I am in the mood, I have much words. Even I am taken aback when I click open a link I am interested in, because it is a friend or relative or a subject I may be engrossed in, to find so many words.
Back to this thing I could be jealous about though: People who still have friends that they were friends with in high school or even before then.
My middle daughter is a hard nut to crack when it comes to being friends with other kids. If she was in a room with a bunch of new kids she would stand off to the side, or go directly to the people she may know. She occasionally hangs with her parents rather than playing with others. She does have her really good friends though, but rarely sees them. The one thing she’s got going for her, is she is oblivious; which can be a very bad thing at times too. But, she doesn’t recognize when people don’t include her when she is being stand-offish, and that is good. I talk to her about this once in a while: that the important thing is to have quality friends, not quantity. The conversation will turn to me at times. She knows I don’t have many friends, but I have some good quality ones. She also knows that I don’t know any of the people I use to know growing up. One time she felt so bad about this, she started tearing up. I felt bad for her; that she is not the kind of person who needs such close friendships, but that she recognizes it in others. I told her I didn’t feel awful about it, but there is something missing about who I am now. It’s like an itch I can’t scratch.
Read the quote at the beginning of this post again. Go ahead… I’ll wait.
I’ve experienced life with so many people, been good friends with quite a number of them… and I wish they knew me now, and I truly wish I knew them. Sometimes that is why I hate that one site so much. I have a few of the people I use to go to high school with and none of them have “met my eye”, so to speak. They aren’t there anymore… and yet they are.
The quote above is from a fictional/historical account of Julius Caesar. This is on the day of his wedding. His friend Marcus if off training with the legions, and Gaius (Julius) feels a sharp pain knowing Marcus is not there, sharing this moment with him, meeting his eye, knowing who he is. In a perfect world we’d all have those people. I’ve spoken before of how my life broke up during high school and beyond: failure, divorce, depression, losing my grant. All these transitions brought me to new points of life reference. New people coming in and out of my life. No one there who knew me from the beginning, but only in the transition.
I told you that I am not jealous… not really. But there is a bit that lingers. I know many others have that and I wish I did, but I don’t dwell on it. It doesn’t hold me in sway or attacks me at shallow moments. Yet, it is there.
But, there is someone who was with me from the beginning. Someone who can figuratively meet my eye. Someone who has known me since I was being knitted together in my mother’s womb. He has seen all my many faults, failures and foibles, and He still loves me. It is incredibly fascinating to know that the creator of the world is not only with me here, now as I type this, but also with me then. When I failed out of Judge, He was there. When I lost my grant, He was there. When I held my firstborn, finding it incredible that I was blessed with such a one, He was there. He is with me always. There will be a day when He will meet my eye and He will know the whole journey. His eye will tell me that He was with me always.
I miss not meeting the eye of a good friend, one that was there, but I will meet The Eye of my Lord someday, and oh what a glorious day that will be.