Twenty seven love letters

Yesterday an old friend took me to dinner for my 27th birthday. On the way back from the restaurant we saw a man (presumably homeless) in a wheelchair who wasn’t strong enough to push himself up the small incline from street to sidewalk. He hung there on the edge and called out for help as the traffic light changed. A nearby group of people pretended not to hear him.

After sending the man on his way, my friend burst into this big angry rant about how “chivalry is dead” and the general suckiness of people, and I was reminded of a common phenomenon.

For those who either didn’t take Psych 101 or slept through Psych 101, here’s a quick lesson: Catherine “Kitty” Genovese was raped and stabbed to death in the street outside of her apartment in 1964. Weeks later, a newspaper reported that several of her neighbors admitted to witnessing the event, but failed to react. Genovese syndrome, a.k.a. the Bystander Effect, is this condition of unresponsiveness during an emergency, and the driving force behind the Real-Life Superhero movement. Watchmen character Rorschach was said to have made his mask from one of Kitty Genovese’s dresses.

That this particular friend of mine exemplifies the hero complex as though it’s inherent (he also once dove in and saved me from a crazed dog a millisecond before I would have lost a limb) is probably what I admire most about him.

I'm crazy about this friend in a not-so-friendly way. Big time. The biggest time. And so here is the part where we go from regular blog post to direct letter. Hopefully one day he’ll find his way here and read it.

Dear unmentionable friend,

Thank you for the dinner, for your company, for reminding me that there are people in my life whose non-douchiness shines through regardless of how hard they try to stamp it out or disguise it as something else. The opportunity to see you in rare form was like a birthday gift all on its own, and has inspired a list of other things I want from you in particular. I wrote down one for each year of my life since I didn't publish an official birthday post this year and you know how much I love themes:

1. Your complications
2. All of your insecurities; especially those over weight, appearance, how others perceive you
3. Your struggle with commitment
4. Self-deprecation, humor, sarcasm -- your biggest defense mechanisms
5. Your frustratingly hectic schedule
6. Your inability to show or deal with emotion
7. Your inability to deal with yourself
8. Your inability to deal with stress
9. Your stress
10. The recklessness with which you treat both yourself and the people around you
11. Your addictions
12. Your unpredictability
13. Your fear of not being good enough
14. Your vulnerabilities
15. Every stupid front you make about being “awesome”
16. Your pride
17. Your shame
18. Your volatile mood swings
19. Your bad habits, including white lies (and black ones)
20. Your misguided sense of obligation
21. Your grief
22. Your refusal to evaluate and look for meaning because of what you might realize
23. Your crippling disbelief
24. Your selfishness
25. Your cowardice
26. Whatever it is that makes you reject anyone who thinks higher of you thank you think of yourself

I want these qualities aaaaaaaaaaalll up in my shit. I want them in my face, sitting next to me at dinner, reclining in the crevices of my brain while I work. I want them to wake me up each morning so I can say, Hello qualities! I accept your challenge! I will take you along with me as I attempt to help show this man what he cannot yet see in himself.

Number 27, of course, is just you.

The people that know me are probably reading this and either shaking their head, sighing or considering how much courage it is taking me to publicly admit my feelings. But the funny thing about the word ‘courage’ is that it comes from the Latin word for 'heart' (‘cor’) and its original meaning was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. Imperfections and all.

By that definition and considering what I write on this website, I am courage.

Here I can be who I am without fear that my feelings won’t be accepted or reciprocated. Without fear of being judged. This authenticity and the resulting vulnerability, I think, is just as fundamental to a healthy society as not turning our cheek when we see someone in danger. The reason is simple: Once we accept flaw we can truly be open to the things that make us great, and then we can be better people.

Here goes some more truth:

I love you differently than anyone else in this whole world. And most importantly I believe, without the tiniest hint of doubt and regardless of what has gone down or will go down between us, that you are worthy and deserving of it.

I understand that you need to come to these big realizations on your own, so please don’t mistake this as an attempt to be a martyr or Superwoman. I just have to get the words out. Besides, as the hero the cape is more your thing.

If you’re reading this, I don’t expect you to say anything, to do anything, or to return my feelings. In fact, I’m almost certain that this post and its admissions will be nothing but a tiny blip-- if that.

I guess the most important thing here is the strengths I’ve acknowledged and all that’s left to say is this: Let’s stay in each other’s lives. I’ll bring the courage, you bring the action, and maybe we’ll save the world. And if we start hanging out with each other more? Maybe even ourselves.

Love, always love,

Chelsi