Right There: A Story of Friendship

Chapter Nine

After church I went to the beach with Matthew. I wasn't sure if I was really feeling up for it after that panic attack I had, but I figured maybe being near the water would help get my mind back on right. It had been a while since I'd gone on my early morning walks anyhow. This would be the perfect opportunity to get back to that, I told myself. I wasn't feeling up to much conversation, and I think Matthew knew. I basically just stayed silent and followed him around the shore as he kept scavenging the sands for precious sea shells. It was kind of funny to watch in a way. These pieces of sea life really meant a lot to him, and the question of why came to my mind more than once. Of course, I had my own questions spinning around in my head. Why was I so nervous in that church? And why was I afraid of the pastor talking to me? I kept thinking and wondering as I walked around with my head bowed down. I didn't know who to talk to about this stuff. Was I supposed to? I mean, is this kind of stuff normal for someone who no longer believes in God?

I remained silent as Matthew stopped at one spot and searched for shells. I decided to sit down while I waited. I rested my hands beside me and dug my fingers into the sand, accepting defeat from the war my mind wanted to wage on me. The hurt was becoming a bit too much and I started feeling tears welling up and begging to be let loose. I didn't want to cry in front of this guy, I didn't want to cry in front of all the people at the beach. I bit my lip and lifted my head to the sky even though the sun was super bright.

I learned this trick back when I was in middle school. If you lift your head up, tears won't be able to come down. Matthew glanced over at me and put his shell bag down.

"What's going on?" he asked me, as if he already knew something was wrong.

I brought my head back down and sighed. I told myself over and over that there was no way I was going to unleash my storm on this person who I was just now starting to get to know. It would be strange, and I would be the weird one. Unfortunately, one tear became too heavy to hold back, and the dam broke.

"I don't know," I said as my voice started to break. I brought my knees up to my chin and wrapped my arms around myself. "I've been under so much stress lately. Nothing feels good anymore,"

Matthew sat down next to me, giving me his full attention. I looked up at the ocean, then back to my knees.

"My mom has Lupus, and I think we're going to lose our house-I can't focus on anything anymore-," I cried, as more tears rolled down my face. I quickly wiped them away and tried to hold them in, but it was a fruitless attempt.

I looked up and saw people walking past us on the beach, hoping they weren't looking at me.

"I was so scared at that church," I said, shaking my head and wiping the snot from my nose. "I felt like everybody there staring at me and judging me,"

"That's not true," Matthew said.

"I don't believe in God anymore," I confessed. "I just can't. Why is my family going through this? Can't He just stop it and fix things?" I stopped talking and realized how much I just spilled out. It was like all of my thoughts grew legs and walked right out of my brain and through my mouth. I immediately regretted crying in front of Matthew and felt completely embarrassed. Although the short catharsis did help me feel a little better.

Matthew said nothing, but just sat still beside me for a few minutes. Then he spoke. "I'm so sorry your family is going through so much," he said, looking down at the sand in front of us.

"Thanks," I said, wiping more tears. "I'm so scared."

"I know," Matthew said, sympathetically.

"Thanks for listening, I guess. This is pretty embarrassing," I said, wiping my face once more.

"Sorry if I ruined your shell hunt."

"No, it's okay," he replied, dusting off his knees. "I wasn't gonna find anything good here anyways. It's too late in the day."

"So why'd you come here, then?" I asked him.

"I thought maybe you could use a friend to talk to," he replied.

"That's really nice of you," I told him. He smiled at me. A little bit of time passed as we both sat in the sand, and I thought long and hard about why this guy was so hellbent on spending time with me, even if it wasn't particularly enjoyable. After all, I just cried like a pathetic crybaby right in front of him. I didn't add anything positive to the conversation, and yet he sat patiently beside me. It was something I never really expect from anybody. It was nice. I sighed and held myself tighter.

"Thank you," was all I could say.

I watched as beach-goers walked past us for a good minute. I didn't want the moment to be more awkward than it had to be.

Time seemed to go by so slowly. I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know what to think. It was so unlike me to let my feelings show in public, and I was still feeling a little shocked by it. I started to make designs in the sand with my finger.

"Hey, the retirement home is having a party tonight," Matthew said out of nowhere. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Party at a nursing home," I said blankly, still drawing in the sand. I turned to him.

"How do old people party?" I asked.

"Very carefully," Matthew laughed. "Seriously, though. It's just a visitation night but there's going to be board games and food."

"I'll think about it," I told him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," he said.

"Do you want to be... friends?" I asked awkwardly. I don't know how those words came out of my mouth, but they felt natural. I don't know why I asked it, but it felt like I should.

"I thought we were," he said, a little surprised by my question. "But yes, I do."

"Me too," I said, slightly grinning. It was such a weird question for a twenty year old to ask another twenty year old, as if we were children at a park playing in the sandbox. But I was starting to like the way I felt when I was with this guy. He was weird, but I liked it. He wasn't like other people our age, and that was refreshing. I didn't feel like I had to be anything when I was with him. Just myself.