now we know.
there was a time when we dove into friendship with such abandon, a time when it was irresponsible but it was ok because we were together. we forged bonds from steel and iron and i could have told you, those days, who my bridesmaids would be. i could have told you who i would marry. i was wrong on all counts.
i approach with trepidation. i let my heart jump but i stay quiet, on the outside, until i know. it used to be that i would throw my stories out there to anyone who would listen and some who didn’t, some who i just hoped would. and perhaps i don’t have the balance right still, i know i’ve revealed details too soon and i’ve scared people away with them but i like to think that i’ve learned, at least somewhat, the art of facade. and when the right time is to let it drop.
the thing about inexperience is that you never, you can’t, appreciate the process. when i was seventeen i made a friend over three nights in a hotel, where we talked on our little hotel phones and told our life stories. when i was thirteen i made a friend on a bus ride back from boston, where the windowshades and our shared love of chapstick served as our glue, for that day. but never through these could i step back and realize what i was doing. i could never appreciate the linking as it happened, i couldn’t see the bond as a third entity, like i do now.
and now, it grows and i can watch it, and it’s beautiful, the unfolding, and even moreso when it’s seen. we talk for a long long time and i am laughing, and it’s been a long long time since i’ve felt the newness of a connection. for the first time i have the sense to be grateful. i feel like i talk too much about gratitude, and it’s a word that’s bandied about the personal devleopment sector of the internet with reckless abandon, and there should be another way to say it. i have the sense to know that i am participating in something special, something rare. to know that i am lucky, so lucky for this.