Turns out good deeds are hard to do. Not only do you have to find a noble way to do them, but then you have to be willing to write about them. Seeing that I primarily write to myself on here I didn't think it would be that difficult when I started this short lived journey of good deeding. So over the past few weeks of my absence I will say good deeds have been done... but they will not be talked about. Due to personal conflict or lack of luster they will be locked in the vault of silence.
On that note I will say there is one worthy of mentioning. As I sat pondering my thoughts at T.C. Ellis one morning a man walked in. He made a comment about not having money but quickly disputed my look of fear by saying he was not asking for money. See, when people ask for money at TCE (oh yeah, I shorten the name of the boutique to feel cool. NBD.) I want to help them but I don't know how.
This man I could help, kind of. All he wanted was some of the free candy we have at the front desk. I gladly told him he could take as much as he wanted. Selectively running his hand through the jars he explained that he had never been in this position before, he went to church every Sunday, and didn't even like candy but wasn't going to be picky.
As he walked away, pocket full of unsatisfying snickers, I thought to myself: how great would it be if next time he came in I could slip something else in the jar.
Honestly Shelby? How would you ever pull that off?
I wouldn't know he was coming, so what? Tell him to close his eyes and put something else in the jar while he stood there? Good try crazy but your good deeds are not working out! And on top of that I couldn't get him out of my mind. It's like he was that person sent here for me to help and I chicken out. Good going idiot!
And then I was reminded of second chances.
Walking into The Overton to have a lavish drink with some good friends that night I was distracted by a familiar looking jacket.
Eureka! It was him! My candy guy! Or so I thought... It looked like him. He was sitting on a chair in the lobby and didn't seem to be waiting for anyone. This. Was. My. Chance.
Being the Overton goer that I am I knew there was a small nook where they sold little snack items over by the bar. I plopped my purse down, snatched up my brand new Tory Burch wallet (I couldn't get any more cliche) and pounced off.
Rushing to the front desk I was to declare I wanted to buy the WHOLE mass of food in that nook!
Too bad the worker was on the phone.............. Forever.
Eureka times two! My wonderful childhood friend Ryan worked in the restaurant, and thanksto my creepy tendencies I knew he did not get off Christmas so he was there. Proud of my new discovery I turned on my heels, checking quickly that my candy man was still around, and bounced to the dinning room.
There he was! All blacked out and vacuuming.
"Ryan! I need you to do something for me!"
He looked confused.
"I need to buy the things in that nook and have you give it to the homeless man."
There was only cereal. He did it, even though I was unsure if it was the right person. And then Ryan was gone. And then the guy was gone. And that was it. There is no big ending to good deeds. You do it to help someone else after all, not to make yourself feel better or show off. I'm still not even sure it he was homeless. Or if he likes cereal.
Bet you thought I was bailing on this good deed thing already. Don't worry, I wasn't. I've actually been immersed in my good deed for days.
Being my first good deed after dishing for the cause of a mission trip, and factoring in that I am broke as a joke, I decided to take this one for the team and do something for myself. I want these deeds to mean something and be big, even if it is only big in my eyes.
For two and a half years now I have liked this boy. He is a wonderful boy. The kind of guy who is always there when you need him. He says the perfect things, and even enjoys gawking over books. The good kind like Ayn Rand's The Fountain Head. And for two and a half years I let myself think he was too good for me. I watched as he dated other people, and I dated other people. We took in each others problems, and all the time I wondered what I didn't have?
This weekend I changed my mind. He came to visit me and I knew it needed to be done. For once I had to ignore the fear, that fear we all have that stops us from being happy. See, I have always been scared of relationships, and wanting to let someone in. It's really scary to know that people are going to hurt you. And that is just the thing. We all know.
Or at least we think we know. What if we didn't? What if for once we acted like it wasn't going to happen? We were finally going to have that connection that wasn't balancing on the worlds oldest see-saw. There would be no problems, no worries, nothing but bliss.
So as we got monogrammed wine bottles, read silently with one another, danced to the over zealous music from across the street, and smiled at everything, I realized. This. Was. Right. It's as if when you finally let go of all those bad memories, all the broken pieces, it falls perfectly into place.
That boy who called back just to say he didn't like you any more, the one who left you down town, remember the one who took your car to "help someone move" more like move another girl to the movies on a date when he never even brought you to one? The one you thought you could change into liking you, And the guy who said you were not good enough after you gave him everything. Those guys stop mattering. All of the sudden you are laughing at the thought of them meaning something. Anything.
Because in those moments you and this guy, the one who has your stomach turning and your heart pounding, you two know everything is amazing. As amazing as it can be. And anything else you do, it will be just as amazing, if not more.
I know what you are thinking, this doesn't last. Forget that frat boy party music, this is what's over zealous! I thought that too. And I won't be shocked if the thought crosses my mind again. But that is when I have to stop myself and remember, this is different.
I don't believe in that "can't-eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over- the-fence, World Series kind of stuff." But I do believe in finding your best friend.And not your some-of-the-time friend. Not that guy who is awesome to go out with, pays for your meals, and kisses you goodnight like a gentleman. A best friend is the person who looks at you with content. They stick around, and when they stray they come back. You laugh more than you kiss, and you kiss a lot. He holds your hand, and remembers small details even you have forgotten. He sits at your office because you are addicted to work and couldn't miss one day. Find the person who does all of that. Find your best friend and you have found the world.
