I rekindled an old friendship yesterday, and it could not have come at a better time – not a minute too late, not a minute too soon. Good friends help smooth the sharp edges of everyday living for me; they slow the hand on the clock with their attuned ears and empathetic tongues. Nothing escapes their well-trained senses, like night owls on the hunt after sundown. They detect your need, even from great distances and in between long periods of slow or no communication. Absence does not weaken the bond; in fact, you often find yourself picking up a conversation exactly where you left it. A little dusty and slightly rusty, old memories begin to surface and gain momentum. They hover in the wings momentarily to make room for greetings and personal updates and descend quickly during the natural pauses. Remember when…the phrase is enough to send both of you spiraling through portholes to the past, for better or for worse.
Last evening, the flow between us was as familiar as always, but the present held a curiously strong presence among the memories. We found ourselves solidly in the moment, seeing each other clearly for what we have now become after surviving some of the unexpected highs and lows of life. Yet, who are we to judge; we are still both so young in age and experience when compared to many.
It is comforting to be without judgment and to not be judged. We did not wallow in each others despair or revel too much in the accomplishments. We simply shared stories, listened and understood – two friends talking plainly with each other. No masks or facades. Sometimes, the truth doesn’t hurt; oftentimes, it makes you smile and wonder why it can’t always be like this.