Love sick

A long time, but not long lost, friend flew in from Toronto for a few days. I adore our friendship. The way that she finishes my sentences and we giggle conspiratorially as we wade through old memories and gossip about nemises and mistakes from the past.

It's something so easy. There's never been any cattiness or drama. If we don't talk for months, it's acceptable and the fault of no one. When we have the opportunity to get together each year, more often if we're lucky, things just fall into place. Conversation begins where it left off, life has continued but it's not an effort to catch up.

It is a wonderful experience that diverts my every waking moment from being a lovesick weirdo.

It's so ridiculous that you can go so long without knowing someone or having them in your life and all of a sudden two and a half weeks is torturous. Technically, I can live without him. But realistically, I'd much rather not.

So I spend a little extra time curled up before bed, reading postcards like some kind of staccatoed bedtime story.