Fear and Friendship

My last post generated some keenly insightful comments that have in turn stirred up my thoughts on the subject. Of course, the irony of all ironies is that I sit here, behind the veil of a computer screen, opining about friendship while having virtual communication with my on-line buddies. What is wrong with this picture?

I confess that I have fears in friendship. Fears of being fully known (God help me), because we all know that if anyone really knew me, they wouldn't want to be my friend. (I've got all my current friends fooled, though.) I also fear being hurt or rejected. This drives me either to reveal only my false self, the mask that I think others will like, or to shy away from any invitation to intimacy. It seems easier to simply rely on myself.

Both of these fears, however, are false. They are lies that I buy into, that cripple me and keep me in slavery and bondage. They isolate me and ultimately make me weak and sick with an ever-deepening neurosis of self-deception. I become like Gollum -- alone, diseased, perhaps wiry and resilient, but lost in an inner-world of misery and illusion. In the end, Gollum was left with only himself for companionship.

Love must open itself to pain. There cannot be one without the other. We can avoid pain, but only at the cost of both. If we do not risk the threshing-floor of heartache, our lives become shadows of real human existence. We will laugh, but not all of our laughter, we will cry, but not all of our tears.