Holiding Hands with Razorblades

I can honestly say that every new person that shows up in my life. Every new person that sends me an email. A friend request. A private message. or Phone call gets a chance to show me who they are and what they are made of, as I get a chance to show them who I am.

This comes down to one thing. Character.

It's a simple word with a loaded chamber. It demands your attention as it unravels all that is a person. Their morality. Their ethics. Their principles. Their heart.

I hope when I extend my hand in friendship, it is just that. A friendly gesture. It represents myself saying to someone that I don't know that well, that I would like to get to know them better and share my experiences with them and would like for them to do the same with me.

I have been very picky about the types of people that I let into my life. Especially online, but I do always leave that door open and give everyone a fair shake. Yes. When I say this, you can tell that what I am saying is that, I let you in, show you were to hang your coat, and ask you what you would like to drink. You can make yourself at home in my house. I try to keep it lived in and comfortable. I even introduce you to the other people in my house as well. We all share one thing in common. We love each others company and even more so, love to share ideas and concepts with each other.

Recently, I have noticed an increase in the friends that I once thought were solid good people. The people that I thought were moral, ethical, and wanting to share their experiences with me. I have noticed that these very people, that I have poured drinks for in my home, told secrets to about my life and my hardships, shared desires with and dreams and goals; these very same people have told lies, spread rumors, and have purposely let themselves into my home to wreck it.

Sad. Pathetic. Twisted. Painful.

Yeah, it really hurts. I guess they thought I wouldn't hear. I guess they thought I wouldn't know. I guess they thought it would be fun or entertaining to pretend to be my friend, in my home, drinking my drinks, laughing with my other friends and playing parlor games, while secretly planning and plotting a mockery of my friends and family.

Will this change the way I let people into my home? No. I will continue to bring people in. Take their coats. Offer them drinks. And introduce them to the other people in my life, who I hold high on the character list. These are the people that applaud and cheer when I hold the door open for a home-wrecker and tell them that I wont let the door hit them on the way out, because, somewhere deep inside my heart, I still care about them.

I enjoy my friends. Its the way I wake up in the morning. Its the way I fall asleep at night. Its the thoughts I have during the middle of the day that I want to share with them and hear what they have done as well.

For those of you that have been in my home for awhile, you know where the drinks are kept. Help yourself. Pour some for my new friends. And continue to warn me of the wolves that sit near the television set. These are the ones that need to be escorted out of my home.

Salud. Salud. Salud.

- RAWK