It was so good to see her and give a hug and spend time talking and catching up on old times.
A long time ago T. hurt me. And the first time that I saw her again after that (nearly four years ago) made my blood boil. I couldn't believe that I would even have the misfortune of possibly working in the same company as her. I wanted to run at her screaming all the things that I wished I had the guts to say all those years ago.Who would have ever thought that we could be friends again.
And I have to say that it took a lot of guts on her part to take that first step.
One little e-mail asking how I was and what I had been up to all of those years.
And me opening up to the fact that she may not be out to destroy me again.
There is a lot of water under that bridge, some of it stained with a lot of blood. But we crossed it and now it is like visiting with someone that has been on vacation for nearly a decade. You were getting postcards from strange places telling you of bizarre experiences, and you weren't sure if your friend was going to come back and be your friend any more. But in the end it turned out all right.
This is how that ended.
Everything is going to be all right.
And that is good news on any day.
File under Virtue.
3 comments:
This made me think of M.S.
Except, it hasn't been settled like that. Mainly cos I refuse to finish crossing the bridge of blood, sweat and tears until I hear a why.
The bigger difference is that if we never cross it... I won't care.
iam glad you said this, i am in the same heart as you. i have moved 17 times (at last count) and have changed friends numerous times, burning bridges, crossing them, building them. i have lost many friends down the river but i am glad to still have the ones i do. it makes my mind linger like d.'s over those to whom i am not reconciled to. it makes me remember first love and first pain. g. you make me human on days where i feel like a telephone answering machine.
find me in the river, find me there, find me on my knees with my soul laid bare, even though you're gone and i'm cracked and week, i'm wating here for you. - writing illegally at work -
I love that somehow I can write something down and inspire a thought or two in people.
It was hard to rvisit all that pain to become friends with her again. But how well was it worth it.
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