I will wonder what it means to count me among friends. What it means to count me as someone who cares about you. How many times I have to present myself, or how, in order for my motives to not be questioned. What to do to not be hidden from the view of people who judge me. What to do for people to be proud of being my friend.

I may not be perfect, but I am no charlatan. I may fail, but I try. You may not see me do it, but I was doing. If I ever hide a name, it’s because I’m hiding your name from you, hiding my fear of rejection from my desire for you to be around.

So I can only think if you don’t call mine it’s because you don’t think my name’s good enough to call.
And I’d like to think that this is unfortunate on both our parts.

Soon enough someone will say they find me interesting enough to keep, and I will keep them too. I’m not there yet, sure - I may spend a good long time wading in a quicksand of helpless loneliness, but when I get out and stand on dry land, it will be so much sweeter for whoever is around me when it happens.

Will you be there? When you need someone, will you be able to trust me? When I need someone, should I trust you?

Because when I start trimming the space and time around me to leave only the crème de la crème to share in my successes, these questions’ answers will determine if you’ll be in the space shuttle, or out in the airless space. I can’t keep people who made the quicksand. I can’t keep anyone who thinks I deserve to be left in the cold, or anyone who really thinks I left them there.

I want to have something and share that something with someone(s). When I get there, there’ll be a wishlist. But the wishlist is just a shortlist - I will have to cut people out for all manner of reasons. There will be criteria. (Hint: if you’re trying to guess what my criteria are based on the fact that I’m a guy, or the fact that I’m a writer, or the fact that I read this book or watch that television show, you’re most likely wrong.) When the Time Shop becomes a members’ club, you’ll have to wonder if you can still enter.

Will you be ashamed to let people know that I matter?
Because I can’t be ashamed. I have never been ashamed to call the names of things that mattered, and I am not going to fall into that pit, especially when it comes to my own name.

Anything that looks like that pit will be walked away from.