Friends are funny. My South Florida friends are hilarious. Just when you think you know one, she stirs up high school drama and, poof, said friend is a friend no more.
My best guy friend is my rock. But last night, after too much Saturday night fun, he leveled a little too much with me. I make him angry, he said, because I sell myself so short in every way. I am just trying to make my way, I told him. Make it better, he argued. Okay, just know I am doing my best, I replied. Because I don’t necessarily disagree with him. I just hate to hear my best guy friend be so blunt in his criticism.
Sometimes friends tell you something you already know, and they think they are helping you. Sometimes you just want them to go back to being your rock. Still, I love my guy friend. I always will.
RG Daughter is visiting for a couple of weeks while she works on her senior thesis. Her oldest and dearest friend goes to Miami. We took our dogs and ourselves to visit her, joining the throngs of tourists and crazy people along Lincoln Road. As I watched these two girls giggle and talk and hug and simply be together–one whom I birthed and the other whom I might as well have–I marveled at the sincerity and maturity of their friendship, envying as much as admiring its unspoken and forgiving closeness.
Nothing funny about that–we should all be so lucky to have that kind of history with that kind of a friend.
My day-at-a-time boy continues to reach out, making sure we have many, many days together and that we have all the time we need. It is good. It is drama-free. Having gotten over a first hurdle of panic at the intensity of our feelings for one another, it feels remarkably easy once again.
“Because we’re still friends and we laugh,” he smiles when I ask him how this has happened.
I don’t share this special relationship with my South Florida friends. I don’t tell them I don’t want to run from this one. And it’s kind of nice having so much happiness between just us, for now, while it’s still new and evolving.
It’s also nice to laugh everyday, one day at a time.