I screw up a lot.
I don’t intend to.
Also, I tend to have myself and my life somewhat together. At least that’s what I want people to think. So it may come as a surprise to people when I screw up.
Then I screw up more, and they’re less surprised.
Because as I said, I screw up a lot.
This has been on my mind today.
I started my morning with a lengthy phone conversation with my best friend from college. She lives in Eastern Standard Time, so a normal hour for her is nice and early for me.
A large part of our chat was about our friendship and how comfortable it is. How much like family she and I are.
You see, I’ve finally realized what I need: I need people in my life who are consummately forgiving.
Friendship is something that - as I’ve learned over the past couple of years in my life - can end.
Friendships can very much end.
The number of friends I have who I know will forgive me no matter what is a very short list, but those are the friendships that will never end.
My friend I talked to this morning: we spent the whole phone conversation talking about forgiveness, our friendship, and how I screw up a lot.
Because I screw up a lot.