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Confessions of A Mushball

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My older gentleman friend has a term called a “mushball.” He informed me a long time ago that while he can be very nice, and kind, he by no means is a “mushball.”
Meaning he won’t be manipulated or taken advantage of, and is not afraid to speak up.

Well, I on the other hand, have been struggling with my mushballness over the years.

One area where it seems I can’t shake it is with the long time friend who have had numerous fallings out with. It’s well-documented on this blog how I’ve struggled with this relationship and after I sent her an email about life being too short and that while I recognize our relationship may not be as close as we once were, I still love her and want only the best for her.

She agreed.

Her birthday is this month, and somehow in all my mushyness, as a gift, she and I will be going rock climbing.

I kind of see a symbolism in choosing this adventure as my birthday gift to her.

Rock climbing takes patience, determination, concentration, and trust in the person below holding that rope. You see a goal at the top, it’s not going to be easy. You may slip, or fall, or have to start all over again, but you know it’s worth it when you get to the top and look down at where you started. There, you see what you’re really made of.

Some friendships are the same way.

I know. I go from one extreme to another. I was going off on how selfish she could be in other posts, but I did mention that for some reason of all the people in the world, I wouldn’t necessarily recant my negative statements about her, but I would eventually swing back to the other side of the pendulum.

I think we’ve missed each other because now she wants me to travel with her next year on the great journeys she plans to take. I’d actually like that. As much as we may get on each other’s nerves, we actually can travel together.

So I confess, I’m a mushball. For certain people in my life, my heart allows second, fourth and eighth chances.

I hope that this time around, we understand each other better, and she understands how to better navigate my sensibilities, whether she gets it or not.

Here we go again.

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2 thoughts on “Confessions of A Mushball

  1. Assuming the role of the “mushball” isn’t necessarily a bad thing, just make sure the other person doesn’t take it for granted.

    – K.

  2. Good for you for hanging in there — pun intended.

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