Friends…

Yesterday was not a stellar day for curb numbers. We made some money, yes, which is always awesome but, for a Saturday, it did not meet the expectations born of previous experience. Lately, it has felt like we are in a bubble of …I don’t know what to call it…not awesome?…with curb numbers. Anyway, we will be out again today instead of taking the day off since we did not make enough to support us this week. Bummer.

Last night, as I was falling asleep and my brain was processing things as it does, it came across something that comes to mind every now and again: I don’t really have many friends. I’m ok with this, though. Unless, of course, I’m going through a self-pity party moment. Thankfully, last night was not one of those times.

I make ‘friends’ easily. I have been told many times in the past that there are no strangers for me. Just friends I haven’t met, yet. For the most part, I agree with this.

What I’m talking about is close, long time friends. You know what I mean. The type of friends you can tell anything to because they already know everything about you, have muscled through the rough patches with you, you’ve gotten into fights with, not talked to for a spell because of, and still end up being able to pick up right where you left off like nothing happened. The type of friend that, if you should completely lose it one day and need help with a body, would be there with tarps and shovels and a plan without a second thought.

This is my own doing. I am absolutely horrible at maintaining friendships. I’m not great at maintaining relationships with my own family, for that matter. Its not that these people aren’t important to me, because they are, I just get busy with other things…life, mostly.

I believe this might be something that would be classified as a character flaw. I’m not sure. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time looking at it in an analytical way, trying to decipher its root cause. I have only recognized it, owned that it is real, and that’s it.

I think a lot of this has to do with being so attracted to the new that waltzes through life. I have spent most of my life walking into new experiences, good or bad, and I get completely consumed by them. Its new, I am learning new things, its exciting (in the beginning, always, at least). This isn’t to say that the ‘old’ is no longer important to me, because it is. As I said, I get consumed by the new.

The one friend I have that has gone through the most with me has been my friend for 25 or 26 years. We have gone through periods where we didn’t speak for a couple of years due to some disagreement or whatever, but, when we reconnect, we sink back into our old familiar comfort, again. There is nothing she doesn’t know about me and she can read me like a book.

That last part used to really piss me off. No hiding with her. The fact that she knows that I get stuck in my head with some things, mostly things that really stress me out or have hurt my heart, means that she can let me stew until she thinks I’m creating my own discomfort by not talking, then ask just the right question or questions to get me out of my head. I love that woman.

The true friends I do have are more valuable than any temporary friends that I have ever had, or will have in the future. They have seen me at my worst and still love me. They have weathered my storms. Some have helped me pick myself up, again, when I’ve ran as hard as I can with whatever new thing I’ve consumed myself with and it has left me battered and broken.

Yeah, I might not have a lot of friends in number, but I have the best of friends anyone could ask for. I wouldn’t trade them for anything in this world. I am fiercly protective of them. I would bring the tarps, shovels, plan and hug them closely when we were done. I’m the luckiest girl alive.

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About dragonflygypsyusa

Over-thinker with way too much availability to the internet to research whatever might come to mind, amateur photographer, dog enthusiast, learning every day, working on finding my undamaged self.
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