On friends……

I read this post on Flowerpot’s blog.

It’s friends who are there. When you’ve been holding it all together and the smallest thing – like stubbing your toe – can release an outpouring of frustration, guilt, loneliness or fear. Or all of those.

It’s then that I value my friends most. To be able to pick up the phone and say, in wobbly voice, “can I come round?” or “how about meeting for a drink? In five minutes?” And hearing that soothing voice the other end of the phone saying, “Yes of course, I’ll be there in five minutes.”

And oh, the relief of letting it all spill out. Tears of joy or worry; actually voicing those fears that kept you awake all night and now, when exposed to the open air and a kindly friend, suddenly lose their terror. You find you can accept them; laugh over them perhaps.

And you part, later, awash with tea or wine and the best feeling of all. That warm, glowing feeling (no, not the one after sex!) but a quieter, more solid sensation that has its feet on the ground. It is steadying and precious and available to us all to be shared.

Years ago,when I moved to Falmouth and bemoaned leaving all my friends behind, my dear friend Av said, “When you share a problem with someone, that’s when they become a friend.”

It hadn’t occurred to me until she said it, and of course how right she is.

So in honour of all our friends, and to those especially in need, please pass this post on.

Wow. Because I can’t think of anyone who I would choose to share any of my problems with. I really don’t want to bore them to bits when they probably have their own very different problems and issues to deal with. And that applies to my friends going back years, and my more recent internet friends.

So my take on friends is very different.

But someone really made my day today. An internet friend who once told me that she didn’t distinguish between friends she had met and friends on the internet – to her, we are all her friends.

So I duly went to the post office to collect the Christmas present she had sent. It was exactly what I wanted. Something I had mentioned a couple of months ago, and then, it never came up again.

What a sweetheart. When there is disappointment and disillusionment in life, to receive such a thoughtful gift – from someone I haven’t met – was so lovely. Thanks.

About roughseasinthemed

I write about my life as an English person living in Spain and Gibraltar, on Roughseas, subjects range from politics and current developments in Gib to book reviews, cooking and getting on with life. My views and thoughts on a variety of topics - depending on my mood of the day - can be found over on Clouds. A few pix are over on Everypic - although it is not a photoblog. And of course my dog had his own blog, but most of you knew that anyway. Pippadogblog etc
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3 Responses to On friends……

  1. Flowerpot is very wise.I liked the post your quoted very much.You helped me so much, you cannot believe, through a very, very bad time back in March last year. When I was so stressed.You made me laff, made me realise my fears were so stupid, and irrational, but you understood also where I was coming from (knowing my history etc). It meant such a great deal to me.Although we have never met, I value your friendship so much.If I want to shake my ever lengthening curls I email you or post on my blog, and somehow just writing it out helps.And knowing I am going to get some “pull your socks up” advice.It doesn’t matter if you are real life friends or internet friends, there is a connection, sometimes more real than real life friends in a way.Also, it is lovely to have internet friends, because you have no “history”………no past fall outs, no nothing, just taken as you are. What you see (or should I say “what you read”) is what you get.Letty ;0)))))))))))))))))))


  2. Anna Stasia says:

    Bloody internet, it is the work of the devil!


  3. Anonymous says:

    er, did you take something off this blog, I called back into read it (post or comments??) and something has gone?An Interested Bystander Who Thinks He Was Imagining Things.R. Butler


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