Coming home

They huddle around a small table. Their heads lean towards each other as they share confidences, laughter, companionable silences. Their hands hug steaming cups of coffee as they marvel at life and all it entails. An occasional hush blossoms between them as they wonder how much longer such meetings will be possible - before their time completely belongs to everyone else, and everything else, but themselves.

Yes, they have their small victories. A friendship sustained through yawning distances and years of immense change. But the future has never seemed more uncertain, and decisions loom heavier on their minds. Will the tomorrow that seems to be speeding closer allow for more of these moments so treasured? Together they feel younger, older, wiser, more inept, more the same, and more different. They share. They learn. They ponder. They disagree. They contradict. They advise. They laugh.

Is there a time in the near future when these oh-so-necessary meetings become impossible luxuries? They are indignant at the mere possibility of growing accustomed to an existence without these simple pleasures. And yet deep down they acknowledge that tomorrow things could be different. They may not hold the same importance to each other a few years, months (days?) from now…

But surely this comfort; this ease of picking up where they left off months before would be impossible to duplicate? Because sometimes it seems as though sanity, and idealism, and hope, and joy are threaded in this bond. Because, the sharing that goes on in these moments, is almost like coming home.

A Letter to Mr Right

Mr Right,



Hello there, how are you? That's a rhetorical question, because at this point in time I really don't care. I'm writing this to tell you that if ever you find me, for the first few months of our 'romance' you are going to be in big trouble. You OWE me! But seriously, where are you, and why are you taking so long?



According to everyone else, I am not LOOKING hard enough. I'm not sure what the term 'looking' means though... maybe it's like shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. Try a pair on, and then another one, and then find one that you fall in love with and that fits. Unfortunately, my commitment to a pair of shoes would be pretty short-lived. There are always new pairs of shoes that catch my eye... uncomfortables ones, sensible ones, flashy ones, too-dear ones, unattainable ones, ones that are the wrong colour, ones that belong to someone else... You get where I'm heading, right?



And then there's that whole deal with being 'fixed-up'. What is that about anyway? While in theory I have no argument with the idea, in reality I am a bit pyschotic in that respect. I admit it. I am unreasonable when it comes to being part of a match-making project. In my mind I end up envisioning a prize bull being introduced to a prize cow - not that I am any kind of prize!



What I don't understand at all is the looks of pity that are directed my way when people in the throes of coupled-ness bliss throw my way. 'Don't worry honey, you will find someone of your own soon.'



Uh, thanks.



Don't get me wrong. I would love for you to come into my life, so that we can embark on an adventure that will be very new to me (and boy had you better assist in making it an adventure!), but I am enjoying my life the way it is. Changes are welcome, if they improve it, but I really don't feel I am lacking in anything. I wouldn't mind a little more time and money to travel, but hey, a girl can't have EVERYTHING.



I am not leading a colourless existence, yearning for you to come along and paint bright rainbows on a dreary canvas, or whatever other miracles you are supposedly going to bring with you. If you come along, I will welcome the experience. But you will have to pay for your tardiness. Not because I have been waiting - I haven't really. But because of all I have had to hear in the interim. Because of all the awkward situations I have somewhat enjoyed (I know, I am psychotic) when others have tried to pair someone who is not you, with me. Because of the explanations I have to give when someone I am introduced to is a pale version of what I hope you will be. Because of all the Mr-Wrongs-but-in-the-end-a-great-learning-experience I have had the joy of admiring, getting to know, and having great but rather awkward friendships with.



So when you arrive, Mr Right, be ready. I'm already not amused with you!



Ms Single-and-don't-give-a-damn.