I’ve been talking to people I’ve known seemingly forever this week: it’s been quite lovely, but interesting how they all come clumped together.
None of them are “old” in any real sense … at least, except in exactly the same way I am old.
I’ve talked to the friend I have known since we were three … which is a ridiculously long time ago. Eastern end of the country.
I’ve talked to my best childhood/teenage friend. Western part of the country.
I’m going out to dinner tomorrow with someone I’ve known here since we both moved here, young, idealistic, and ready for a life in the theater … too long ago. Middle part of the country: she came east from west, I came west from east, and we met in the middle.
Another middle-of-the-country friend I’ve known since close after we both just moved out here, I went out to dinner with last weekend. She no longer lives in town (or in this state), so going out to dinner with her is special.
I have another East Coast friend I’m probably overdue for a chat with … but given his significant other situation, timing is everything.
Fair bit of time with friends I’ve known a lot fewer years, as well. Feeling the need to get together with one or two I’ve neglected … which is a good reminder not to neglect them, isn’t it?
Counting my blessings that there are so many friends I’ve known for so long, and so few that have been lost in the sands of life and time.
All within a week. It’s a good thing.
“My friends have made the story of my life.”
― Helen Keller