how the friendship ended.

It was like being hit in the face. Staring through her mirror at a face I didn't recognize.

But after I got past my anger and pain and shock, I started reading between the lines, to the heart, which we so often miss--and it's so surprising, what you'll find at the heart of anything. Hers felt unloved. She hid it beneath her own anger, but there it was.

It's easy to hate yourself without understanding your own rationale, but this time I didn't. I just stopped, and started digging back in the dark for the box that had all the memories of that time. I wanted to know why I had done what I did, just as much as she did. Because I've done this before, and I don't want to do it again.

If you don't value yourself, then walking away from somebody else doesn't mean much. You aren't important enough to matter, and as soon as the ripples die on the pond, life will go on as usual, as if you'd never existed. If you don't see yourself as that person, the one who attracts other people, as a necessary piece in other people's lives...you can walk. If you don't see yourself as someone that people love. Not romantic love, just, love. Unreservedly. I walked, three years ago.

And underneath her anger and dismissal, I finally got the real picture of what I am to her. She loves me. Unreservedly. And knowing that changed everything in how I answered her. Because even though that affection made it possible for me to hurt her without realizing it, it's also hope. There's nothing you can't do when you have love, hope...and faith.

My faith is fighting for what is important to me. And so, I fought. I mean, I don't have that many people who love me that much--and each of them are precious. I told her the truth and that I was sorry, and that she was worth too much to let go. I refused. There are few other creatures on this earth as stubborn as I am. In fact, I think I told her that we'd already argued about it at least a dozen times in my head, and I'd won every time--so the friendship wasn't ending.

It turns out that she still had some hope hiding inside as well. And I know it doesn't always turn out this way. But forgiveness is a beautiful thing. I should warn her, though, because now that I know she loves me that much, I'll feel free to squabble with abandon, because friends--they can argue without being afraid.

So in the end, I'm glad she told me.

Eternities and instances are beautiful.