Expression of Friendship

Wikipedia defines unrequited love as love that is not reciprocated, not mutual, even though reciprocation is usually deeply desired. The beloved may not even be aware of this person's deep feelings for them. This can lead to feelings such as depression, low self-esteem, anxiety, and rapid mood swings between depression and euphoria.

There are scenes that stick in memory, no matter how trivial they may seem at the time. Scenes that can be recalled with total clarity, unmarred by time or subsequent history. This time, I have two such scenes.

The first is of the first time I saw a girl I met in school. I saw her through a window. She was approaching the building. Along the sidewalk she strolled and beside a forked tree as the sun danced off her hair making a golden rainbow.

Meeting a girl was not unusual, as most of my good friends were female, but this one was different. I had experienced love at first site, once before, so I instantly knew this for what it was and I fell hard. Being cripplingly shy at the time, I did not approach her and did not see her again for a couple of weeks. By the time I saw her again, she was dating someone - one of my best friends.

Over the next month, I lived a tortured life. Though, I had thought about her during the first two weeks, it was more of an innocent, pure love. Now my love was tainted by envy and jealousy. I refused to cease seeing my friend, and she was always there. I could not tell him, "I'm sorry, I cannot go to the bar with you because I am desperately in love with your girlfriend." I thought of her most of the time, but the jealousy was eating me inside.

My second scene occurred about a month after meeting her. I was about to walk about the door, on my way to see my friend, and she would be there. I had my left hand on the doorknob and the epiphany struck me with such simple clarity. The thought went something like this:

"Do you love her?"
"Completely."
"Are you willing to try for her and possible lose them both?"
"No."
"So, you can't have her and you can't lose her. What can you do?"
"I can be her friend."
"I can be the best friend she has."
"I will mold my love for her into being the best friend for her that I can be."

It was just that simple. Once the decision was made, that was that. From that moment forward, I was the very best friend to her. After a while, the decision was forgotten, but the friendship remained strong and steadfast through travels, adventures, and even other boyfriends.

Recently, I have advised another friend that if they cannot have the one they love, but cannot stand with the possibility of losing them, then they, too, could change their expressions of love into an Expression of Friendship.

Spiderman and The Hulk

I grew up with comic books around the house. There were the normal smattering of heroes in tight outfits spouting the famous, "You'll never get away with it!" lines and loft of fantastic powers and fights. My little brother was the consumer of most of the comics. From a very early age, he took great pride in the protection of these treasures. My brother collected DC comics. I liked comics, too, but I liked the comic books by Stan Lee - the Marvel comics. I especially liked Spiderman and The Hulk.

I am a tall man - a little over 6.5 feet (just shy of 2 meters). Unlike other boys, I did not have a massive growing time in my teenage years. Instead, I started out young and grew consistently until around 18. As a result, I was always the tallest child in any of my classes, sometimes the tallest child in the school, and at least once I was the tallest person at the school. Like a lot of taller boys, I grew much faster than my coordination, so I was very lanky and clumsy. It was during these very clumsy times that I came to idolize Spiderman.

I imagined how great it would be to be like Peter Parker and over a short period of time, move from being the butt of the jokes, target for the bullies, and endless retriever of spilt books from the hallway, to self confident, dextrous, and strong. I would have gladly taken on the responsibility of a superhero in exchange for not being that kid anymore .

Obviously, I am not the comic superhero, so I became increasingly frustrated by my lot. This frustration would rear up only very rarely whilst a teenager. I had very healthy, and strenuous, activities through which I could channel these frustrations. Luckily, my family used wood to heat most of our home, so the actions of cutting, hauling, and splitting wood served to drain me of most of the frustrations, while granting me some strength and confidence in some skills.

After I left home to attend college and being removed from the need to cut wood, my activity level plummeted as my frustrations began to mount. During these frustrated moods, I began to identify with The Hulk. As I began my college career, I was still lanky and clumsy,with low self-confidence. Soon after arriving on campus, I was fortunate to find understanding friends and some activities to take the place of my at-home "exercise."

It was during times of activity breaks, summer vacations, etc., the frustrations would mount again and I could easily identify with The Hulk and yearn for some ability to, like the comic hero, let the rage out and return to normal, drained and calm. During one of these summer breaks, I had a job managing a movie theatre. After a particularly frustrating week, I'd finish my work and after all the other employees had left, I would take a broom handle into the stock room and destroy the empty boxes there. I would emerge 30 - 60 minutes later, exhausted and calm, and return to my normal self.

I am older now. Gone is the desire to be Spiderman. The power and freedom would be wonderful, but that boy that felt so out of place in the world has grown into an intelligent and self-confident man. However, I still struggle with the frustrated beast, within, sometimes. Usually, I can walk it off, or release it by bitching at the traffic, but I also meditate and take St John's Wort to help me in diffusing the frustration before it begins to bubble and boil.

I have a friend who is going through his own state of frustration now. He told me the other night that he feels comfortable talking with me about it because he can see that I understand. I don't have to tell him stories or try to sympathize or empathize with him. He has seen his own hulk, and, like me, can recognize it in others.

If you have ever seen the beast peering back at you in the mirror from behind your eyes, you will know what I mean. He's still in there, my hulk. I still see the beast sometimes, and if you look closely and know what to look for, maybe you can see it, too.