Look I’m just tryna be your friend…

I know that you’ve grown to distrust men, and they leave you disgusted, cuz they rusted your lovin, and burned it in the oven, but – I’m not tryna get nothin.  I mean – sure I find you attractive, and I thoroughly enjoy your laughter, and perhaps through this friendship we’ll find love after – or perhaps not – but that’s not my reason for sticking around.  I enjoy our friendship sound.  A beautiful echo from here to the clouds.  Something about you is different – we vibe well.  I don’t mind sharing secrets – but this can only work if you share yours as well.  But you hide inside your bubble…

I’m just tryna be your friend.

And I mean, I want to share, and build and grow, but your holding back puts a cap on the freedom to know.  I can only give so much, before I am addressed by prudence and wisdom telling me to hold up, and wait for your trust to show up.  … I wish – I wish I came with a resume.  So you could see what I’m about, where I’ve been, where I’ve sinned, where I’ve been redeemed, and that every word I’ve said, I meant.  I see you behind that bubble friend.  And I have a love for you, that moves me to be patient.  It’s the love of the bond closer than brothers, not of romantic relationships… That may come, it may not, but it’s possibility is not a reason to insert distance…

I’m just tryna be your friend.

So I – poke here and I poke there.  I ask questions and at the same time try not to pry.  I hold back my usual methods so that you do not get scared… You don’t have to pop the bubble – just let me inside.  Life is but a vapor – we don’t have years to walk this process out.  It’d be different if we were strangers, or opposites, but we’re not – we’re cut from the same cloth.  Ticks of the same tock.  Bearers of the same Cross.  … I look in your eyes, and see your past in your soul.  Fragments of pain, wisps of ache, the remnants of passions that once lived and now exist as ghosts… In your jokes I hear nuggets of your testimony.  When you cut yourself off so you don’t reveal stuff, I hear echoes of unspoken truth, and see beyond the fluff.   … But what can I do?  What can I say?  Your bubble… your bubble…

I’m just tryna be your friend.

Why you?  Why do I care?  Answer me this – what would you do if in the midst of your flight you saw your kind in the air?  Would you stick to your flock, or go and make the instinctive connection?  Would you stay in your ring of comfort, or remove it and become visible?  Would you risk being a duo, or remain a solo indivisible…?

I take leaps.  I free fall.  I have faith for wings.  I believe that my true friends sit on the other end of the seesaw… So as long as it takes – I guess here I will wait.  Not as your prospective mate, or over eager date – but as a vault in a bank… I won’t chase so you can see my wells – how far they go – and know that I’m safe… I see you friend.  I am not your opposition.  Blow this bubble away… And trust the sincerity of my heart when I say –

I’m just tryna be your friend.

~The Wordsmith


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