So sorry for the spotty posting lately. I was recently contacted by an old friend - by her husband actually. She and I were once the closest of friends, like sisters, but things deteriorated after my first child was born. It's a long story,one I'm sorely tempted to recount here, but I won't bore you. Suffice to say it ends with me actually performing her wedding ceremony, only to be completely ignored by her at the reception, and later, as we were planning a baby shower for a friend, her statement that she was having a lot of trouble mustering up more enthusiasm for other people's babies (my second child was only a few months old at that point). Add to that a lot of insane drama that I put up with because I loved her, but which, ultimately, was too much to deal with. And, oh Lord, there's so much more than even that. 10 years worth. I had to break away, for my own sanity.
And now she and her husband have just purchased their first home and they want me to come to a housewarming party. A party that will be full of the crazy, drug-taking, alcoholics whose company she ultimately decided she preferred to mine. And he tells me that "it would mean so much to us both" if I came.
I do miss her. I miss her sense of humor and her intelligence, and how we understood each other so well in so many ways. I don't miss the irrationality, the constant hypocrisy, the incessant drinking. I know that I am truly happier without her - and yet I ache to have a friend like that again.
Anyway, this has all been clouding my mind lately, pushing aside the thoughts I should be using on quilts and handbags and other happy projects. Fortunately, there is a Harry Potter marathon on TV today, and I can occasionally lose myself in the story. The friendships those stories portray - those are magical creatures. I wish such things were possible in real life.
