Old Friends

Can you imagine us years from today,
Sharing a park bench quietly 

How terribly strange to be seventy - Simon and Garfunkel

There are so many horror stories of friendship turned arsenic: gruesome and bloody backstabbings, smashing of trust with blunt instruments, unauthorised sharing of top level secrets. Despite going to an all girls school, I managed to float through school observing and generally avoiding some ridiculously complicated friendship politics. The clean up squad was more my thing - once the missiles were spent, voices reduced to a raspy croaks and tear ducts exhausted, peace troops would be needed to clean up and sort out. That was quite fun, talking to both sides, investigating the situation, finding middle ground, clearing up what was invariably a small, deadly misinterpretation of words. Blimey, the energy wasted on drama!

There are a few people who fall into the park bench category for sure. Swallow and Glitch are utterly easygoing, happy go lucky, solid, up for anything [not always a good thing with me around] and total soul mates in a non-cheesy, non-astrology.com kind of way. Coaster is rather more complicated: the image of a vertigo inducing, erratic yet strangely reliable roller coaster springs to mind. While on it, there are moments of panic and illness, but being on the ground involves being lost and without a compass, even though I often disagree with his sense of direction. Yea, its complicated. Birdboy probably be there would too, but thats a situ still floating around in midair at the moment.

There are potentials that hover around, new friends, old friendships that would be missed terribly if they were to dissolve, but those are constants necessary for all to be right in the world.

Long distance close friendships are tough. I miss how easy it is to be with them, the short hand which cuts through explaining, the instinctively knowing when something is up without having to be told/tell. How we always, always end up having a good time getting ourselves into and out of crazy situations, laughing all the while. Even the shittiest day turns around. 

In a way, the worst part is not being able to share the good stuff. Dancing in the rain, rolling in the hail, funky concerts, beautiful Victorian buildings with ivy curling up its walls, impulsive drives, walking through the city and randomly stumbling across a jazz band in a courtyard, little country towns out of Enid Blyton, candy stores, stationery warehouses, chatting to interesting strangers, in a club, dancing to that song you know they'd go crazy for if they were here, even or perhaps especially, just feeling happy for no reason. 

Feeling a little friend-sick.