You know the ones. The ones you might not talk to for months, not see for years. The ones who helped the integral sculpting of your true and innermost self. The ones that have more secrets of yours than anyone. The very ones that even if YEARS have gone by, once you settle in with a drink, you become who you always were with them. Time passed ceases to be any issue and the very comfort of your friendship wraps around you all, burying any strife and discomfort and bringing forth epic laughter, tears, and the very sweet and graceful gift of knowing, of really really knowing that you will ALWAYS be friends. Until the very very end.
They are the lifers, the friends that span childhood, the teenager years, young adulthood rife with adventure and drinking (which may or may not include knowledge of exploits best left to your diary), the journey into adulthood and responsibility. I am so very lucky to have two girls in my life that I can gift them this accolade.
I haven’t been able to see these two girls for almost two years now. This weekend, they are together though, and I am so happy for them. I admit a surge of jealousy frothed a bit, but this fucking life of ours has a tendency to take us where we need to be, not necessarily where we WANT to be… and I chose to just be glad for their experience instead of hosting a pity party for one…. I do hope that we can figure out a way to hang for a weekend soon, the three of us, up to no good at all, epic laughs until 4 am… This. This is what I need, what my soul craves. It’s like a treat, that one you never indulge in until you cannot say no. A gathering with your oldest and dearest. Well, I believe it fills your inner well up until it flows over. I know it did the last time we all managed to squeeze in an impromptu gathering.
We were little kids together. How freaking cool is that??? We saw each other through nose-picking and bullying games in the playground, periods and bras, first loves and crushes. Fights with each other, silent treatments, notes passed in biology. As we grew, we learned. We learned that love and friendship means more than popularity. Celebrations, driving to cruise hot guys, drinking in the pits. Getting caught doing something bad. Commiseration. Smoking together. Drinking together. More fights… well, they just lead to relationships strengthened.
We know so much, we needn’t discuss it. We are one another on some deeply formed level that is so buried within, it whispers instead of shouts. I am who I am and a huge silent part of this is Lisa and Melissa.
We wrote a book together, we raised holy hell together, we drank and partied, we ripped it up, owned our sexuality with wide varieties of willing young men, we slowly settled, fell in love, raised some lovely children. We are rolling into that great and gray area of Middle Age, and yet. And yet we still feel the same inside our very hearts and souls.
We were mean as hell to each other, but holy fuck, NO ONE would mess with them other than us. I stuck up countless times to gossip and backstabbing. I raised my voice against ones who would say shit about MY friends. These were my beauties, my sisters. They were my best friends. And I sure love them a whole lot.