During my college years, I was the girl people brought their problems to. I was a “good listener” and apparently my advice wasn’t too bad because they kept coming back. One weird roommate (my daughter once told me that creeps are attracted to me) bouncy and oblivious as a Labrador puppy, would sit at the foot of my bed, going on and on about this guy Dalton who, clearly, was never going to notice her.

“I’m tired, so I’ll just get ready for bed while I listen to you,” I offered, reluctant to physically elbow her out the door.

She barely paused for breath. “…and we both love volleyball, and pizza…”

“I’m going to crawl under the covers now,” I told her, stifling a yawn, “but I’m still listening.”

“… and he smiled at me in the hallway yesterday and it was so perfect, I think this is it, finally, right?? RIGHT??”

“I’m going to close my eyes,” I mumbled, “but I’m still listening.”

She eventually went away but my dreams were tainted with Dalton, fending off a gangly Labrador in thick glasses, who kept trying to lick his face.

The thing is, weird girl aside, I like listening to people’s problems, maybe because I see them as stories. High drama or melodrama, it is the stuff our lives are made up of. Plus it distracts me from my own navel lint.

To be a confidante is to be gifted with trust, to have someone say “I will let you see the real me, weak and wanting, unwashed and unvarnished, because I believe you will not laugh, or judge, or rear back in horror.”

In the movie Avatar, the main characters declare their love by saying “I see you.” To be truly seen – and heard – and still be found worthy of love, well, that’s pretty amazing.

Love Notes from the Lake

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