TheBanyanTree: Just Between Friends

[Maria Gibson]

That's me, for sure, just between friends.  Somewhere between the
friends who screwed me and the friends I can't quite seem to commit to.
Sure, I can call and email and I do, sometimes.  I've become the friend
I personally never wanted.  The speak-as-if-we-see-each-other-every-day
friend even though it's now rare.  The catch-me-if-you-can friend.  I
even told someone I didn't want that kind of friendship and here I am.
Frankly, it's easier.  I did once kindly let a person know that I tend
to hold others at bay now, hold them just far---enough---away to keep my
comfy layer of protection.  It seemed fair to mention it.

Most of the friends I have are far away and have the luxury of having
known me before I became whatever this is called.  I used to be a lot
better at it and was willing to invest more time into it.  I think I
want to be that way again but I wouldn't even know how to go about it
anymore.  The bus that carried that particular gal around is on the side
of some forlorn highway with three flat tires, a busted tranny and a
family of skunks living in the back.  No AAA and no tow truck.  Fixable
on some level, I guess, but pretty costly.

I now have the possibility of friendship from one who is near.  Very
near.  So near it is crazy scary.  I find myself wanting to really warm
up and I'm not really sure I know what I'm doing.  I don't know why I'm
telling you this and perhaps I am really just telling myself.  Recently
two of my lesser-savory past friendships have come to light in subtle
and interesting ways and I think that this is not an accident in
relation to this possible new budding friendship.  Sort of the cleaning
out of the basement before moving to a new place.  I'm not sure I'm
ready but it is gaining momentum on me at a frightening speed.  Is it a
little like falling in love?   Once burned and scorned, cautious; about
four times and you're just ready to forget the whole thing?

Perhaps.

I assure you, I'm usually the jovial one.  Jokster, laugher, maker of
mirth.  Usually not so morose as to cry, piss and moan about having had
some bad experiences.  But these are the things I think about when I'm
by myself and my husband is on a hot wing run, having left me and my
morose thoughts to entertain one another.  And you, for that matter.  Or
not, if that's the case.

Welcome to my train of thought.

Maria