My heart hurts. H., whose shooting star friendship blazed across about 18 months of our mutual lives until the &%$#% November election, walked into the Media Center today. It is the first day of the Spring semester. She will need to come here from time to time to get video materials.
Will it ever not hurt to see her unexpectedly? It added such joy to my day to have a real friend at work -- the kind that sneaks into your heart, the kind that makes you feel like a little girl again at school -- as had not happened in 15 years or so. Some times on Friday afternoons when she was finished teaching her classes for the week, we'd go out for lunch and wind up playing hookey. Lunch, then coffee, then hot fudge sundaes, and finally a trip to Rainbow Books and Records the best used book store in New Castle County or maybe all of Delaware. I remember calling my boss Tom up on one of those Fridays, an April afternoon so glorious with spring air and clear sunlight that it made you want to cry, and said I was out for the day, kidnapped by H., just couldn't come back.
It was the sweetest friendship I had known in years. It came out of nowhere, and ended all of a sudden due to political differences. Having met my husband when I was 16 years old, I'd never been dumped. Until middle age.
What makes this on-topic is that every time my heart twinges, I wonder if this is how Jesus feels in his human heart when he thinks of folks who have entered into wild, wonderful relationships with him at some point in time and then later dumped him. Does he miss them? Want them back? Remember the laughter and the joy? I think so -- I remember once reading an essay by some saint who related our common (even embarrassing) human experience of unrequited love with the experience of God made man.