by tashmcgill | May 7, 2017 | Friendship, Love & Marriage, Mind
He flung out his hand, asking for mine and grasped my wrist in a clumsy sort of embrace.
“You are requirements,” he said. “Don’t go.”
I had simply wondered out loud about leaving the party to go home now the celebrations were in full swing. It was a throwaway question, was I now surplus to requirements, could I go home?
I didn’t mean to be asking for permission, nor did I expect the bolt of acknowledgement that came from his words. He was a friend in need, on the constant precipice of emotional breakdown and I had capacity to meet his need for someone reliable and loyal.
In that moment, I was requirements even though I knew it wouldn’t or couldn’t last. It was a glimpse and reminder of everything this really wasn’t. I wasn’t really requirements, but the idea of me was.
I would come to see this as the summer we settled into one another. From that point forward, his uncertainty of my loyalty became concrete assurance and I was then on, unfaltering in my friendship and support. Later, I came to see this as both the beauty and the sadness of my life. An effortless ability to step into someone’s need and to fulfil their requirements regardless of my own.
The feel of his skin and shape of his shoulders under my fingers became as familiar as that of a child or brother. It was nothing to clasp his hand as we would pray, or to feel the heaviness of his head resting on my shoulder in a hug. It was an easy agreement between friends. In the long days of distress, I could answer his need, a glass of wine and listening ear, mostly.
Truthfully though, you might be requirements for a moment but eventually those requirements will change. Someone who is healing will not always need you in the same way they need you now. Open wounds need tending, but newly formed scar tissue is often best left alone, if you catch my drift.
Being requirements came with boundaries and limits. I gave out of an open hand, whatever my capacity was at the time but I couldn’t give with an open heart because while he needed me to meet requirements, he couldn’t meet mine.
The pieces he needed were still some of the best pieces of me and I could give them without cost but not without sacrifice.
Throwing a dinner party when significant birthday celebrations came around. Holding together a kid’s birthday party while arguments happened in the background. Babysitting at the last-minute or being any kind of company when the night is too long and dark. Laughter and an excuse to re-imagine and explore the world at the best restaurants, on short trips away. A steady, reliable and loyal comrade to be trusted in any kind of gathering or last-minute adventure – those requirements I could meet.
My requirements are quite different. People and friends meaning well have often probed the question, do I just need to be needed? Is that why I’m always the strong friend that people, particularly men, are drawn to until something better comes along?
I don’t need to be needed. I’m a helper but I don’t thrive on being needed. Sometimes a sense of people depending or expecting help from me is the fastest way to build barriers between us. I thrive on helping when I want to help.
Part of learning healthy boundaries as an adult has been choosing when and who to help, particularly when my help is wanted.
Because my requirement is to be wanted. Not a placeholder or simply the one who is available at the time, not taken for granted or a substitute until something better comes along but the one who is wanted.
When someone particularly wants my help or input, I am at my most vulnerable. When men (and women) who ‘need’ my friendship have come along, I have learned through heartache that to be ‘needed’ is not the same as being wanted. Requirements will change. He would have consumed me, as if I was water in the desert if I had not had my eyes wide open. People who are thirsty will do that to each other.
An Oasis for the Thirsty
I am sure I’m not the only one who has a story like this, where you are the one who does the heavy lifting in your relationships. You’re the best girlfriend of your male best friends or the guy your girlfriends all rely on for a man’s opinion. You’re the one whose friendship they can’t live without but really, they can. And I don’t want to be the fill-in girl. To be honest, people will take whatever of yourself you give them and treat you how you teach them to treat you. Sometimes, I feel like an oasis in the desert for the thirsty, but I’m always thirsty myself. We have made a mistaken, secret kind of holiness of being needed.
I’m learning (and still trying to practice) not mistaking vulnerability for intimacy and vice-versa. And somehow learn not to give of myself what they cannot give to me, especially in moments of my vulnerability. It is the loneliest kind of love, requiring self-discipline to temper affection, measure what you can give and withhold that which you do not wish to relinquish. But that is love in boundaries. And it sucks. I don’t believe for a second that we were meant to live in this measured, self-protecting way with each other. But in a world that has forgotten how to live wholeheartedly and honestly with each other, this is the best we have, navigating through the fog.
The scary truth is that being someone’s Girl Friday, someone’s requirements now, may yet be the best intimacy I ever know. So I’m still requirements, when I can be. Still wholehearted, as much as possible. And still wanting to be wanted some day, for someone’s requirements to be me, just me, broken and best.
by tashmcgill | Feb 13, 2016 | Friendship, Love & Marriage, Mind
One morning last year, I woke from a dream and my head was full of thought; hanging like a wave waiting to crest for some time. The kind of billowy thoughts that are undefined; really more of a feeling. It was heavy and I searched to define it until I remembered the word; melancholy.
On this particular morning, I struggled to find reason for my melancholy. I was in the middle of an adventure overseas, I was surrounded with friends and I was drinking whiskey, not gin. I was not unhappy. I was content.
I made coffee and sat at my favourite window in a house I love. The sun was warm on my back and I was without obligation but to embrace the moment. Still my heart would not quicken and I could not lift my soul. And I remembered then; this is the Lonely. There was something within me longing to be heard; but the one to hear was not with me.
So I let it sit, let it dwell with me for the day. Loneliness becomes a more tolerable companion as soon as you acknowledge its presence, I’ve found. I let others assume the reason for my quiet reticence that day and then in the evening, alone in the quietness of my room, I said to the Lonely, ‘Thank you for today and good night.’
The Lonely wished me a clear night of sleeping and gently exited the room. What happened so that when I woke, the Lonely was no longer with me?
What the Lonely Is Trying To Tell Us.
Scientists speculate the human brain contains over 100 billion nerves, communicating complex messages. These nerves are responsible for communicating pain, injury and harm. But the soul, the spirit has no such system – or at least, not one so clearly defined or as understandable as neurons. So the intangible self must find ways of alerting us to when something is wrong with our spirit.
I believe that much of what we feel, sense and experience in life, good and bad – is part of the complex communication between the articulate mind and the intangible, voiceless soul. When change is required, when change is happening, when something good or when something bad is emerging – feelings emerge to guide us down the way.
The challenge is that we confuse these feelings for being a ‘state’ rather than a message. A message is something to hear and respond to; a state is something you have to morph from. The Lonely is trying to tell us something and the lonely won’t go away until it’s been heard.
I was talking with a friend who is recovering from a relationship breakup, the real kind where your whole being is redefined in moments. He spoke with sadness and tenderness about the emerging loneliness in his life and I witnessed many of the ways he tried to change his state of being. And this week, I’ve heard the same from many others as Valentine’s Day approaches.
“If I can just find plans for the weekend, I won’t be lonely.”
“So long as I’m with friends on Valentines Day, I’ll be ok and not think about it.”
“I’m not going to be alone, I am going to find a new relationship.”
Judge a person by their questions, not their answers.
That morning, I woke and encountered melancholy and realised my soul was trying to send me a message.
“Why are you here today, while I am in the company of so many friends? What are you trying to tell me?”
I asked the Lonely what it was saying.
Over the years, the Lonely has visited me before along with Sadness, Frustration, Hopelessness. At other times, Joy, Anticipation, Delight and Contentment have visited me too. But for today, here’s what I’ve learned the Lonely is trying to tell me.
I might be isolated. With people or alone, but either way disconnected. Usually it’s when my thoughts have traveled inward and haven’t been expressed. I have something that ought to be shared with someone but I haven’t shared it.
I might feel invisible or unnoticed in a crowd. This is the plague of the third-wheel, the calamity of the social single. It’s not always, but sometimes you feel you could be lost from the moment without people noticing you were gone.
I am lacking in intimacy. A thousand people to small talk with but no-one to understand the bitter-sweet irony of a moment or a glimpse of something we’ve seen before. An absence of shared memory or history. Often, loneliness exists in the midst of our dearest friendships and relationships because we’ve fallen into the habit of being with someone without being present to that person.
I am not engaged. For human beings, Bored and Lonely are sometimes telling us the same thing. We’re not engaged in the present. With the ones in front of us or with what might be discovered in front of us. We see things as they appear to be. We assume the blue hat is on the hook by the laundry door because it is so frequently there we forget to look for it. We stop noticing the small changes in the pattern of what we see everyday.
I am feeling uncomfortable or in a new environment. I long for something familiar. I long for security.
I feel Other and insecure. I feel alone and unlike anyone else. I am without a sense of home in this moment.
Sometimes I am just longing. Loneliness tells me my body needs touch. I need the embrace of another, the warmth of human skin and to share the breath of life. I need closeness and for my pleasure receptors to be firing. I need to respond and be responded to. That may not mean sex and sometimes it might. Loneliness reminds me that my body, mind and spirit are connected. Two cannot carry the load of three endlessly.
“Why are you here today, while I am in the company of so many friends? What are you trying to tell me?”
In the simplest of forms, loneliness is most often telling us that we need interaction and engagement with other human beings. The burden is that we may not always be able to dictate what kind of interaction we have. But be disciplined and choose which desire to feed.
Which do you feed?
There is a Cherokee story about a boy and his grandfather. The grandfather explains there are two wolves in battle within us; one that is good and represents hope and peace. The other evil and represents anger, sorrow and ego. The boy asks his grandfather which wolf wins and the old man answers, ‘The one you feed’.
When we assess data and information; we have to be careful to not let our assumptions lead to the wrong conclusion. You can find evidence for nearly any hypothesis, depending on the question you ask. So, if you assume that loneliness is a state and you must simply wait until circumstances change so that you are no longer lonely – you are using the wrong data. You have to be careful not to feed your loneliness based on the incorrect data.
But wait about on Valentine’s Day? Or family holidays? Similarly, it is incorrect to assume that a single form of interaction might appease the loneliness or need you have. It is madness to assume that any single relationship can satisfy the needs of a human being. We are complex and multifaceted creatures with maddeningly simple and complex needs. When loneliness enters your life, it’s not because you are single or unhappy in your marriage. It’s because your mind and body is trying to tell you something. When you respond to the message, things will change. Respond to the message first and then deal with the circumstances later.
I will not be any more or less lonely simply because I might one day share my Lonely with another. They will not be able to banish the lonely, but they may share it.
Today, I am single but that’s irrelevant. I am a person who is connected, engaged, present, intimate with a few, friendly with many. I can reach out for a hug when I need it or caress the cheek of a friend. I could take a lover or I could find a mate. But I will not be any more or less lonely simply because I might one day share my Lonely with another. They will not be able to banish the lonely, but they may share it.
You can hear me this Sunday night (February 14, 2016) talking about loneliness on NewstalkZB with Sam Bloore from 6 – 7.30pm.
by tashmcgill | Aug 10, 2015 | Friendship, Love & Marriage
I have something to tell you but first I must give you two definitions. Be patient with me, but come along with me to this place.
Love is problematic to define these days. A single word has been stretched through the ages to encompass many things that are not love. We have come to know love as a feeling, as many feelings. Feelings of acceptance, belonging, desire, companionship, friendship, trust, fulfilment, lust. Many of these feelings are about the Self, the Ego. In it’s most basic human habit, pursuit of love is an egocentric, the language of love is a lazy lens through which we seek meaning. We hope to satisfy our inner turmoil through external means. As if love applied externally, from outside of us, will heal our wounds and complete our emptiness.
Here is what I believe about Truth. Truth is a way of being and seeing in the world. Truth is not seeing things as they are, the definition of black or white, good or bad Truth and therefore freedom to live truly is not found in determining what is right or wrong. Which is why Truth leads to Truest Love, the kind of love that sees the possibility of hope and redemption in all things alongside the darkness. Truth lives in a world that is both good and bad, redeemable and hopeless.
Truth is bigger than us. Sometimes we forget Love can be too but we tend to reduce it to feelings; a transaction record of good and bad feelings that we keep within us. We try to make Love fit the emptiness we feel inside when perhaps we could fill that space with truthful things instead.
I am angry with you, I am happy about this. I feel conflicted in this belief. I am not sure about this situation. I am confused. I am undecided. I have decided and you will not like my decision.
This basic kind of love almost always involves a transaction with another person or people. “I felt loved because of what you said or did. Because of how you touched me or laughed at me, I felt secure, weak, sad, rejected, loved, desired.” Truth brings us back to self and the universe. Who am I? Who are you?
Truth looks inwardly to express something external into the world. Love searches in the world for something that will answer the internal. If you pursue Truth, you will always have a gift to offer the smallest or largest gathering of humans, because you can live outside of your own need.
So to the crux of it: I wrote here that I was giving something up – trying to determine the What-Is, What-Isn’t and What-If.
I have not given up on Love, but I have given Love up. I have given up Love for Truth. Not to give up on Love itself, but to give up the chasing of it. I am willing to embrace a life that does not rise or fall or find it’s definition in the way I am loved or find love in relationships with people. I am learning that accepting myself wholly is a most worthy endeavour, despite what feels uncomfortable and risky. Where I fear loss, I remind myself that being fully alive in this wondrous body and mind is a glorious pursuit. I am not bitter, I am not defeated nor deflated, I am not fatally pessimistic. I see a different type of future, where I, loving Truth most of all, might find more truthful love in any variety of expressions.
Truth is already waiting for me, within my grasp and with a sustaining, life-giving, soul-filling pulse. If I do not choose Truth, I might accidentally let go of it to chase Love and for what? Truest love settles within me and longs to be sought out, if I would just embrace Truth as a way of living and let her be revealed. She who is I.
Strong, idealistic, creative, sarcastic, witty, playful, sexual and sensual, a dreamer and doer, demanding and deeply emotional: this is just the surface of truth in my life. Lonely, brave, terrified and sometimes irrational, I am always well-intentioned and I try to demonstrate Love in my actions even when my words are firm and furious. I am passion in flesh and blood, letting nothing from my grasp without a fight if I desire it. And I desire many things. I desire. I am desire.
Yes, I have chosen Truth over Love and it has done nothing for my loneliness. But living in Truth is also accepting no external force can calm the inner turmoil. Not even your idea of God can resolve that which is unresolved within you if you cannot accept Truthfulness as a way of living. To choose Truth is no miracle cure for loneliness. Truth is key to embracing your loneliness.
Love promises the Ego there is comfort, security and belonging in being known.
Let me be explicitly clear: the more time you spend chasing this kind of love, the hungrier you’ll be. No one will ever love you hard enough, deep enough, true, rich, kind or fast enough. It will never be enough.
Truth tells you there will always be loneliness within your life, that grows and shrinks accordingly to your chasing of Love.
Truth will help you accept rejection and love deeply in the midst of your own sorrow, celebrating in times of sadness and of joy because Truth is always bigger than us and invites us into a bigger way of living.
Truth has always been the gift I have to offer, so I could not be more at home with myself than to give all else up to embrace it fully, and therefore myself.
Do you struggle to forgive simply through loving someone enough? Love is not the path to forgiveness. Truth is the path to forgiveness because the transaction is not based on putting things to rights but rather telling the truth of what is and what might be; side by side.
Do you struggle to show people your true self for fear of rejection or losing relationships? You require Truth to become fully yourself. Choosing not to live out of complete truth for fear of losing relationship, status or influence is a Catch-22 that quickly traps you into people-pleasing. It’s as if you begin to reject your true self so others won’t.
Do you wrestle with loneliness? Truth will set you free to embrace and understand your loneliness, to live with it rather than against it.
Yes, I have chosen Truth over Love and it has done nothing for my loneliness. But living in Truth is also accepting no external force can calm the inner turmoil. Not even your idea of God can resolve that which is unresolved within you if you cannot accept Truthfulness as a way of living.
So I have given Love up for Truth in order to tell you the truth. To tell myself the truth. To live truthfully in the world. Maybe I will also encounter Love along the way, but I will most certainly live in Truest Love.
by tashmcgill | Jul 11, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Love & Marriage
I think I’m just about done writing and thinking about this marriage business. There’s maybe two more posts in me for the next little while and then I’ll be putting it aside. My friend Bethany pointed out that it’s been something I’ve talked and thought a lot about over the last couple of years. It was like a warning bell. Until recent years, I haven’t really talked about being single and I certainly don’t want to get stuck with only one topic of conversation.
Tomorrow, my best friend from high school is getting married, again. While I’ve been to a lot of second weddings, this is the first one I’ve been to where I’ve been to both events, let alone had the same job at each. Years ago, she asked me to write and read a poem for her wedding as I stood beside her in a burgundy bridesmaid dress. This week, I’ll read lyrics to a song they love and I have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but I’m hopeful. As she said, “We’re professionals, so there’s no rehearsal.” So true, my friend, so true.
Her first wedding is best left in the past, it’s become a poignant and intimate thing that is best shared between two friends who have loved each other for a long time. Together, we can laugh, groan and cry about it. Her second wedding will feel more true, more authentic at least. Less triviality.
The first time around, mutual friends and acquaintances fluttered around with reassuring and unfounded promises, the way they tend to do with bridesmaids.
“You’ll be next!”
“Can’t wait for your wedding, it’ll be such a party!”
Even the band (of friends) joked they would have to stay together long enough to play my wedding dance. They’ve long since broken up. There is no boyfriend. Nor a girlfriend, which I’m asked surprisingly a lot. I don’t have an ex-husband to roast. There are a handful of awkward first-date stories that I use to entertain people. Tomorrow’s questions will not be as fun.
In the last year, my two sisters have become engaged and one is married, the other soon to be. My best friend from high school is about to marry again, as are some of my other recently divorced friends. Whether it’s the first time round, or second I feel joy for them. It’s the circumstance however, that’s pushed me to examine the deep, dark things of my life. To look at what is, embrace it and move into a different way of living with the ‘What-If’.
Sometimes life is like going to the dentist. You think you’re fine, until he prods that molar with the sharp pointy thing. Next thing you know, you’re paying for a cavity you didn’t realise you had.
I’m selfish and afraid. I’m afraid of disappointing people, afraid of facing the same old questions and the same old reassurances, when what I want to say is ‘No, stop. Just let it be what it is.’ I’m also learning to let go of my ego, that wants to asks things like, why them and why not me. Dark, dangerous, stupid questions. I’m not afraid that I’ll be single forever and I certainly don’t care about not spending a fortune on a one-day party. I’m afraid that I won’t be ok, if I’m alone. I’m afraid I’ll be too okay and that every day I move forward with my life into a complete, fulfilling, do-all-the-things world, I get further and further from the possibility of meeting someone to share that world with me.
I’ve lived half of my life with the expectation I’d meet someone and we’d re-design the rest of it together. A halfway co-design of the future was the plan I had. That’s not what it is right now, so I’m having to design the second half myself. More on that later.
What-Is, What-Isn’t and What-If.
I’m trying to give something up here, trying to grasp on to something new, this next phase re-design of my life. I’m trying to talk myself into a new way of thinking, which is largely about moving into a new phase of life. I’ll tell you about it once I have the words, but I’m currently in transition.
We all know people who get stuck in What-Isn’t. That singular focus and deep misery that comes from not seeing the wood for the trees. Longing for something they don’t have. Not just single people, but people unhappy in their jobs, their work, their health, their relationships. People who wish for change but do nothing about it, people who live stuck in What-Isn’t.
I think you can get stuck in the What-If too. Afraid to move in any direction in case the magic you were looking for comes along. What if they really change this time? What if my soulmate lives here instead of there; I’ll just stay put. What if I won’t be ok?
I’m trying to give up the What-Isn’t and the What-If. They are addictive, slimy little emotional ego drugs. To be fair, for a girl who lives by the motto ‘do all the things’, it’s not What-Isn’t that trips me up. I’ve never been one to wallow in what I don’t have – but even the twinge of “why her, why not me?” has shaken me enough to re-think my thinking. Just a glimmer of What-Isn’t thinking is too dangerous to give a foothold, like getting high one time and liking it just a little too much.
Earlier this year I nearly overdosed on What-If thinking. It is a slippery slide of self-doubt.
Being Present.
When people write and talk about being Present, this is what we mean. Cling to What-Is and live deeply out of that. Don’t dwell or give too much time to the What-Isn’t and What-if, lest you get stuck. Of course, the healthier you are the less dangerous the What-Isn’t and What-If thinking is. Sometimes life is like going to the dentist. You think you’re fine, until he prods that molar with the sharp pointy thing. Next thing you know, you’re paying for a cavity you didn’t realise you had.
by tashmcgill | Dec 17, 2014 | Love & Marriage, Relationships
I remember the instance so clearly; I think about it every time I take that same escalator. The escalator is at the airport, so I take it a lot. An acquaintance of mine (who I thought was quite mad at the time) was talking about a mutual male friend, only a couple of years married. She said, “Oh yeah, he’s great. Don’t worry I’m just waiting for the second time around. No point trying to catch a new one, just wait til they are done with the practice round.’
She was talking about what great relationship potential he was and joking about whether or not his relatively recent marriage would last. It was a serious viewpoint on her dating prospects.
Ten years on, I can’t help but wonder if she wasn’t quite as mad as we thought as I’ve watched relationship after relationship fall over, with women ready and waiting in the wings to snap up bachelors ‘recently returned’ to the market.
(Really, I mean any partnership between men and women, or same-sex relationships. However, I think there is a stronger mythology being spread around the difference between men and women.)
Don’t get me wrong, I have little respect for people who insert themselves into the midst of committed relationships and I find society’s tolerance for it to be distasteful. I’m not suggesting that I agree with her. In fact, this is the opposite of that. I’m hoping that women feeling fragmented, dissatisfied or even a little bored, might have a change of heart.
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by tashmcgill | Dec 15, 2014 | Friendship, Health, Love & Marriage, Relationships
I wish I could say that I wisely hold back in loving the people around me. But it’s not true – I’ve never once been a ‘hold back on love’ kind of girl. Which means I’ve loved deeply and truly a bunch of times, but I can honestly say I’ve never been in love, not really.
And now it might be too late, because I’m falling out of love with the idea of falling in love. At least, in the way we think about it. The way the movies tell it, or at least, the way most movies tell it.
Was there ever a more unlikely couple than Steve Carell and Keira Knightley, confessing their love to one another as the world ended in the film ‘Seeking A Friend For The End Of The World’? But by the time the story reached an inevitable conclusion, it was obvious that neither character could have found a partner better matched. It was not a long list of shared interests and mutual sexual attraction that made their love story so compelling or so real – and it was, despite contrived circumstances, honest and truthful about what love can be.
Instead, they found in one another an honest, endearing, truthful and compassionate friendship. Both characters were able to be themselves and grew to a more honest and engaged individual when supported and encouraged by the other. They gently inspired one another to a better self.
But I believe that this what we should all be looking for, a friend for the end of the world who loves us as ourselves, rather than an idea of us. The friend who brings us home to ourselves with humility and the one who helps us feel capable of climbing mountains. It’s idealistic but that’s kind of beautiful – for a girl as smart as I am to recognize the naïve innocence of that desire and desire it anyway.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to pretend that chemistry and attraction aren’t a really big deal in successful relationships. But I also know from experience that the deepest attraction grows from the heart and mind. From the soul, I guess you could say.
True passion requires a lot of fuel, on an ongoing basis. I’ve watched love fade from the eyes of people who once couldn’t keep their hands off each other. If the sparks are your only fuel, you might fast run out of matches. True love takes a long time to grow. We confuse the possibility of love for Love itself and where we ought to nurture true and deep companionship, we burn out in a flash of heat and sparks.
And here’s the truth hidden in the detail of a movie of a story we should pay more attention to: sometimes the best friend we’ve been looking for our whole life is just within reach, within eye contact or a phone call. We just don’t recognize it when we’re busy looking for something that feels like love (sparks) but isn’t friendship.
The older I get, the less I’m looking for lusty sparks, I’m looking for a different kind of chemistry. One that is no less exciting, but a little more substantial. Is there a chance we can share a common outlook? Is there a chance I could care about you more than myself? It is probably a terrible sign for my love life, but the truth is I’m no longer looking for a fairy-tale kind of love story. I’m seeking a friend for the end of the world and that makes dating even more of a challenge. The more experience you have of what true Love looks like, the more you are able to recognize what is good and what is not worth holding on to.
In the same way you might study Van Gogh originals to best recognize a forgery, once you’ve recognized the kind of life-changing love that can be experienced in the embrace of a true deep friend, everything else feels like a cheap knock-off. I have too much good love in my life already, so it feels intimidating and impossible to start from scratch.
I’m looking for someone who can follow the sub-text of a conversation, who shares the meta-narrative, the one I laugh with like no one else and who embraces my sentimental, romantic nature. While I don’t believe that any one love can meet all our needs, I’m looking for my best friend and the one who knows I’m theirs.
Here’s why: if anybody is going to stand a chance in making love work for longer than the sparks do, it will be those who are friends and continue to nurture that friendship and relationship above all things. That’s what I’ve learned watching my parents, my friends and dozens of disasters.
I’m talking about the kind of friendship where trials and triumph matter as much to you as to your friend and layers of sub-text and meta-narrative accompany every experience. Where trivial moments of laughter, bad humour and everyday experiences meld effortlessly into what matters and what does not. Sometimes the deepest friendships appear shallow because the foundation is so deep. A deep foundation that anchors people to a common outlook is the richest and best kind of love, no matter who it is shared between.
While I would gladly embrace the heat and spark of new love, I can’t wait for old love. I’d give anything to fall in love with someone who already knows my best stories, my deepest hopes and maddest dreams. I’d love to fall in love with a friend and skip ahead to holding hands.
