I felt the tears coming as my phone buzzed repeatedly. In between stashing clothes in boxes for an impending move, I’d been checking my phone for the text messages coming in fast and furiously from a friend. Instead of stopping by to see me one last time, as we had talked about, she was leveling accusations at me regarding something I’d done months before that had offended her. I was blindsided.
And as I desperately tried to “fix” the relationship by apologizing for the unintentional offense and trying to explain myself, I seemed to be making the situation worse. After about an hour of back-and-forth texts, we ended on a polite note, but I was shattered. A friendship that I had invested much of my heart and time into seemed to be in shambles. And I couldn’t fix it.
I hate not being able to fix things. That tension that no matter what I do, I can’t make something right. It’s a helpless feeling. And yet I wake up every single day to reminders that so many things in…
