Friendship Going Forward
Nothing but real allowed.
She told me the night before last in a parking lot just as we were about to get into our cars that life is too short for bullshit.
She’s right, and there is zero bullshit between us, though earlier in the evening I complained that I often return from other social gatherings drained by others’ regaling and braggadocio and my attendant posturing and politeness.
It’s empty, exhausting. All I want is to speak what’s true, so that conversations feel alive, a give-and-take current capable of buoying us, moving us forward.
Prior to the parking lot, the night before last was us, surrendering the hold. The walls fell, light poured in. We compared battle scars. We are women, mothers, our hearts always the point of entry. Through years of modeling perfect we always struggled, though quietly, attractively, as young women do. Now it can be said we were always kind of a mess. It is a gift, to bare the truth, examine the ashes.
Behind the wheel now, on the new-moon eve of the eve of the New Year, I understand I am a far from perfect human, but I am learning to be a good friend.