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tales of something simple - unconditional love

i believe

Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.

all types of chaos

the core of what we know

I walked toward her at the bar tonight, shocked at first to see that it was actually her. Bleach blond hair and tan as tan can get, in skinny black leggings sipping a glass of red wine. When did we go from 11 to 23? We’ve known each other for so many years and gone through countless spurts of lost connections and catching back up that it feels for the first time like it really has been too long. I almost didn’t recognize her. And when I hugged her and said hello I worried for a small moment that maybe too much time had passed and it wouldn’t be the same. If I didn’t recognize her, what must she think of me? We sat down, and I felt quick to start the rapid fire Q & A of the latest boyfriend update, how’s the family, are you working too much, what do you want to do with your life and are you happy? In the midst of the nonchalant and relatively non-emotional recap of our past year…the kind where your words and descriptions are rather black and white and full of the Webster’s dictionary but not enough of the Thesaurus (you know what I mean, when we talk, we use all kinds of words to tell our stories, but we tell them like we’re just regurgitating it and not really living it). We talked weddings and trips and work schedules and house stuff and familial recounts of how’s so and so and how old is so and so…and then, we found each other.

I’ll skirt widely around the issue at hand to protect all secrecy, but the overall picture will be well understood if you’ve had the same best friend for over twelve years. Totally off topic and out of nowhere she drops a bomb on me. In an instant everything I thought I knew about the last year of our lives was morphed into a looming question mark: Where was I when she was going through this? She assured me that where we both were, was absorbed in our own lives, choosing to keep to ourselves and leaving each other out of our messes not because we didn’t love each other, not because we didn’t need each other (we did, badly), or because we didn’t trust each other. It’s because life was moving so fast and so complicated that we never stopped to think about what we needed. What we needed wasn’t just to get through. What we needed wasn’t just to survive another day, pass the moment or receive a miracle. We thought that’s what we needed. What we really needed was each other.

As woman–and independent, brave strong women we are–we forget what it feels like to remember and act on what we need. To say out loud that we can’t do it alone, that we could use a shoulder to lean on or cry into or beat the hell out of becomes foreign when we are alone and quiet and lost. We are capable of allowing ourselves to stumble into a place in our lives when we forget what it’s like to breathe because we have been too busy trying to stop suffocating. Suffocating from our own stress, chaos, emotions. We left each other out because it was too hard to explain.

But looking at her from across the table, my mouth wide open and tears in my eyes, everything my face told her was…you never have to explain to me. You never have to justify, you never have to lie, you never have to hide yourself. And in that moment, I grabbed her hand and held it in mine…squeezed it and thought to myself…when it comes to best friends, it doesn’t matter how long since you’ve last spoken, shared a bottle of wine or laughed at the same old story. It doesn’t matter what color you change your hair or how much weight you gain or lose or who accomplish what first. It doesn’t matter the distance, physical or emotional that can temporarily weave in and out of your relationship…

We are there for each other, we love each other, we need each other, we trust each other and we are better people because of knowing that this other person is out there who would give their left arm or their Gucci bag (depending on the friend!) for you any second of any day if you needed it.

This…this is the core of what we know.

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