It is over the last six weeks or so that I’ve really begun to settle into my new surroundings and accept the reality of my self-imposed isolation. As I could have imagined, my friendships with many have begun to deteriorate - of course, I realize this is the natural progression of things.
I liken this experience to a locally-owned coffee shop on the corner:
It’s bursting with regulars that wait outside until opening time and stick around past close, but the financial reality of operation at its current location eventually sets in. While it has a large following of what claim to be loyal customers, the minute the cafe closes the doors to its original location and reopens in a more profitable area of town about ten blocks away is when the true test of loyalty begins. Who will make the mile-long trek to enjoy a latte hat is so easily substituted by the corporate chain a mere two blocks away? The truth is, not many. Of course, the shop will accumulate a new ring of clientele in the neighborhood, and who can turn their noses up at new business? Still, there will undoubtedly be an solemn sense of emptiness in the cafe that will continue long after its seats are all filled. However! Much to the surprise (and appreciation) of the local coffee shop, a small but loyal band of the most worthwhile of caffeine junkies will continue to arrive at 5:50 to wait in line outside for their 6:00 AM cup of coffee, come rain or shine. It’s these customers that prove their value to the cafe, and it’s these customers that deserve a note of recognition. After all, it’s these customers that aren’t just looking for the next cheap cup of sludge; they’re in the market for the all-around ambiance and experience only the local coffee shop on the [new] corner can effectively provide. And it’s these customers for whom the cafe will continue to bend over backwards, for they’ve proven their loyalty and worth as individuals.
Metaphorically phrased or not, the truth is this: a move will always impose strain on friendships, but it’s during this filtering process that one is able to distinguish between those who truly matter and those who were just players in a relationship of convenience. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’ve got good friends coming out of the woodwork. But three have proven themselves beyond all others, and they’ve been on my mind a lot lately.
See, there’s this friend of mine. She has been there for me since I was about twelve years old. Our parents took turns driving us to middle school, and when we’d catch the bus home, we’d crank up silly music and dance around each others’ houses. We’d make Funfetti cake and have more fun eating the frosting than the lopsided pastry that came out of all of our hard work and effort. Our grandmothers cared about each others’ grandchildren like they were their own. We got “drunk” off margarita mix when we were fourteen and thoroughly played up the “hangovers” we had the next day. We had more inside jokes than our AIM profiles would allow us to post; more trips to the ‘Sev to buy Slurpees than our stomachs could handle; more sleepovers than our parents’ ears could stand. When high school arrived, we crammed for math tests (although she was always better with numbers) and dried more tears during our significant breakups than our shoulders could have possibly anticipated. We attended each others’ graduations with flowers in hand, then moved in together promptly when college began. While that didn’t work out (show me such an arrangement that does), we continued to support each other over the next few years, although admittedly at a distance. Boyfriends and college consumed us. Thankfully, a fabulous third-wheel reintroduced us to our tight-knit friendship lost at social sea, we’ve become closer than ever over recent months. This friend of mine is absolutely delightful, and I’m so thankful we still have each other after all these years; nearly a decade now! She’s got a lively spirit and a sense of self that, while hard to come by, is even harder to find in someone else. She doesn’t half-ass a thing; she puts her all into all she does, be it friendship, family, school, or her relationship (with, might I add, a stellar guy that I’m so happy she found). I can always count on her to return a text or a phone call, and am guaranteed a genuine hello and heartfelt goodbye whenever we’re around one another. It’s rare that a friend evokes within others a sense of glee simply by being around them, and this friend of mine has that skill down to a science. In short, my friend makes others feel great about themselves without asking for a thing in return. Her selflessness and good-heartedness are among the greatest of her many, many qualities, and I’m blessed to have her in my life.
I have another friend. When she and I first crossed paths, we instantly butted heads. She was strong-willed and outspoken; two traits which I refused to acknowledge were (and continue to be) present in myself. We worked alongside one another, planning dances and events while building tradition at the high school I so begrudgingly transferred to. We attempted friendship a number of times, but each stint of success was always followed up by a brick-wall failure. We couldn’t admit that deep down, our similarities were more than likely the driving force in pushing us apart. During the summer before my senior year, we had tea on the porch of the 24-Hour Starbucks, worked out our issues, and resolved to be true friends. Over the next three years, she and I built the foundation for what is possibly the most concrete relationship (aside from that with my mother) I have. Through first-love breakups (one for her; the same one repeated for me again. And again. And again. And again.) to primping for big nights out, she has been the ultimate highlight of my college social circle. Friends like her are impossible to find - you know the kind. The ones who will call in a raincheck for a date with their boyfriend to rent movies and drink wine after a rough day. The kind who gives you the hair tie and array of bobby pins from her updo (that took an hour to master) and pulls back your hair while you upchuck in the bathroom of a dive bar… then takes the time to classily yet inconspicuously walk you out the back exit and makes excuses like “Bad sushi” when people start to exchange glances. The kind that compliments you when looks beautiful, offers up her closet when you look like shit, and calls you out when you are out of line. My friend is wise beyond her years and gives advice she should really start charging for. She is the flip side of the coin (let’s call it a silver dollar) I’ve come to accept that we are. I’m the idealistic dreamer; she’s the realistic rationalist. She leads with the tough-love card at first, but then opens her arms wide and lets me sob until the cows come home. I’ve hurt her at least 300% more than she’s ever hurt me, and for that I feel an unbearable amount of guilt. She’s got a thick shell, but I’ve come to recognize that she’s more vulnerable than she’d ever let on. She knows when to put on her game face, when business is to be done, and has a very well-defined sense of what’s right and what’s wrong (that I so obviously lack). As an only child, she has become the sister I never had; it’s been suggested that we be the “aunties” to our kids. In fact, I think we’re allotted one type of this friend per lifetime, so we damned well make the best of it. I’m lucky to have her, and I miss her dreadfully.
Last but not least, there’s another friend of mine. She and I don’t have quite the extensive timeline that the other two and I do, but she’s made an awfully big impact on me and is more than worthy of mentioning. This friend of mine is currently going through a really rough patch, and while it could be argued that a large chunk of it is thanks to her own lapse of better judgment, I don’t buy into it and sympathize (if not empathize) entirely with her. My friendship with her has come at a high price, as a number of my inner circle continue to be cautious when associating with her and, at times, have criticized my decision to continue allowing our friendship to flourish. My faith in her has remained mostly in-tact when others have questioned theirs, I don’t regret a tad bit of my decision to continue to defend her character. She is, hands down, one of the wittiest and most hilarious people (and by that, I mean hilariously cynical) I’ve ever come in contact with, and I have yet to spend a day/evening hanging out where my abs didn’t hurt afterward. The truth is, even though I’ve only known her a couple years, I feel like we grew up on the same street. Or went to summer camp together for years on end. Or took horse riding classes (or ballet, or gymnastics) from the day we learned how to walk. We’re kindred spirits; birds of a feather, and I do so appreciate the resulting friendship we’ve attained over the last couple years, despite the hurdles we’ve had to jump in order to get it. Like all things worth a damn, we’ve surely tested the strength and true value of what it is we’ve nutured. It’s true that calm waters have morphed into choppy waves a few memorable times, but we’ve always managed to pull through - stronger than before. Yes, our moral indescrepencies and blacked-out relapses into recklessness have created some tension, but all is absolutely forgiven. How could I possibly hold a grudge for someone else recognizing the fabulousness of my friend and acting upon drunken impulses? If there’s one thing I’ve learned from our friendship, it’s that there’s no use beating a dead horse into the ground; mistakes are made, lessons are learned, and the sacred bonds of sisterhood — excuse me, friendship — are tightened. I’ve learned to forgive and move on, although it’s been a process of the most gradual variety. Life takes us in unexpected directions, but those who are most deserving of the title “friend” are willing to help lead us back on the path when we wander astray. Perhaps I shouldn’t, but I can’t help but feel partially responsible for at least a portion of what she’s going through. When I received notice of the sequence of events that led her to where she is now, my first instinct wasn’t to raise an eyebrow or jump to conclusions; it was to worry about her well-being. And that’s how it will continue to be. She’s classy, eloquent, and adventurous, and frankly, someone I admire and look up to. The grace and dignity with which she’s handling things are most commendable. The truth is, it’s refreshing to have a friend like her in my social palette.
The jury’s back and the verdict is in: the reassurance in having a few delightfully genuine friends surpasses all else. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m truly blessed. By whom is not the issue; with whom is what matters.
Until next time,
JD <3
