I’m looking forward to seeing an old friend who’s coming to stay in a couple of weeks. We haven’t seen each other for close on two years, maybe more, and before that another long gap. Each time we’ve got right back into the rhythm of our friendship, picking up as if we’d been speaking only the other day. And sufficiently relaxed that gaps in the conversation just feel natural. There’s no awkward scramble to fill a silence; rather, it’s a moment for thought and simply appreciating being there, in the right company.
That’s not to say we haven’t fallen out occasionally, but so far we’ve always managed to get back in step and laugh about our differences. One of the joys of a longstanding friendship is the sense of a story shared, but also one that has taken different directions; a shared journey, but along different paths.
There’s acceptance, but not complacency. We know each others’ flaws and irritating foibles probably better than we know our own, and can accept and enjoy difference in temperament knowing there’s far more that brings us together than separates us.
Nevertheless, still always a slight edge, still moving forward into unknown territory even as we can enjoy musing on the past. Like any successful enterprise or relationship, a friendship needs to be nurtured. A longstanding friendship endures as a vital presence if you can both keep an eye on the future, threading ‘do you remembers…’ with ‘next year I’m planning…’ Otherwise it ends up just a nostalgia fest.
Not to take anything away from the quiet pleasure that is recalling the good times with someone who was there, dancing on that random table at a wild gig in the Hammersmith Palais; walking for hours along the river through the warm night after Jane Campion’s The Piano, dazed by the beauty of the film and the beauty of the moment. Or sharing memories of the inevitable scars picked up over the years.
Friendships can take a hit from many different circumstances and directions; that stupid argument that went too far; changes in outlook or circumstances; simply drifting apart. And that’s before getting on to the once topical ‘can a man be friends with a woman’ question:
Harry: “You realize, of course, that we can never be friends.” Sally: “Why not?” Harry: “What I'm saying is — and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form — is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.”
But if love is the drug, friendship is medication (as countless studies confirm). Make that call; send that text; write that email.
All so true…