Best Interest

by Sistah Shoop


Sistah Shoop hung up the phone.  She stood for a moment running the conversation through her mind.  Was there truth in what she had been told?  She knew her friend had nothing but her best interests at heart and now wondered if she did as well.

When she was a child it was nothing for her to spend good amounts of time by herself or rather on her own.  Her parents had allowed for that.  It never seemed a concern and if it did either parent would instruct her to go out and play.  Shoop had always followed their instructions.  But more often than not she took that under her own accord.  When she needed to be out and amongst her friends she went, because she knew it was what she needed.

Sistah Shoop looked back at her childhood, it was a good childhood as she had been allowed to play as a child with all the other children in her neighborhood and yet she also found time to be alone, to play alone with very little space for loneliness.  In the conversation with her friend she was told that she was lonely.  It bothered her to think that what she said or what she did or didnít do was seen as being lonely.  Yes, there were days when there was no one to play with and as a result she would have a moment or two of feeling lonely.  A moment or two, she thought, was all one needed for that emotion because ultimately it had nowhere good to lead.

When she stood in one of those minutes and felt its pull, Shoop generally had to summon up strength to deal with it.  She knew that she merely needed to only shift what she was seeing in her thoughts to a good book, a movie, surfing the internet, a walk or writing.  Any one of those things would carry her off and out of the moment if she so chose.  In her childhood she could play dolls for hours on end after one of those moments.  Being lonely was not something that she welcomed, but she did see it as a sign that something in her life needed attention.

Sistah Shoop understood there were times when she needed to mingle with society.  Those were not her most favorite times.  Too many people, too many opinions and too much time to spend on pointless dynamics that she knew didnít fit in her life.  She also understood that there were times when she needed to just be with herself.  No one, no opinions and no time better spent than learning to understand who she was and wasnít.  In either place Sistah Shoop could feel lonely.  Being with people didnít mean she couldnít find herself in that position and that was okay with her because she knew regardless she was always on her own.

She hadnít said this to her friend.  She had not shared with her what she knew of herself.  Shoop had simply let her express.  She had listened.  Perhaps there was truth in what she had been told, just simply not her truth.  But then truth doesnít really exist, does it?  It just all boils down to what one believes and nothing else.  The truth was that Sistah Shoop was not lonely, at least not at this minute.  Could she be?  Yes, just like everyone else.  Did it matter that she didnít socialize? No, because she knew her socialization couldnít be measured against someone elseís need to socialize.

Sistah Shoop knew her friend had her best interests at heart, thatís what friends were for.  And in that moment she missed her very much, and in that moment she felt lonely.  She walked to her desk and flipped open her notebook.  She picked up a pen and began to write.


Shoop 2003/06


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