I should be packing right now.
More specifically, I should be sucking the air our of the vacuum sealed pack of clothes I just compiled – only sans 1 item despite my attempts to Marie Kondo the shit out of my possessions and “declutter my life”. A near-impossible exercise when you find joy in literally everything.
Why am I packing you ask? Wait no, you didn’t ask that – but in case you did, and on the chance that you aren’t the percentage of my readership that is my mum (Hi Jan!) I should tell you, I am moving to Dublin.
Pretty fun right? Scary almost. Or maybe it’s not, I’m not too sure yet.
I’m excited about it for sure, but of course with change comes reflection and if it’s cool, I wanted to attempt to pour the ineffable ponders my brain has been cooking on a low heat for the past few weeks, specifically about friends. Buddies, mates, pals, compadres, your kitten squad (I made the last one up).
Friendships, good friendships are fucking ace. I am 29 years old and I am still learning about friendships; the nurture they require, the investment of small but pivotal acts which solidify bonds. A love which does not know judgement, it does not seek to cause pain or see you fail, it only exists to lift you up. They are an extension of your family, of your heart and when you get it right…you almost don’t need anything else.
Friendship encompass an indescribable power, of which I won’t attempt to bore you by trying to give you a literal sketch of something which is a uniqueness in everyone. But as I navigate through this incredible emotional week, I wanted to document the several certain things I know to be true of the friendships I am lucky enough to have:
Good friendships are 27 minute voice notes of nothing which are in fact everything
They unravel and smooth the tangled wires of your brain when you’re mid-malfunction
They are letters, dripping with love (and tippex) of the memories you have made and will make; “no bits, no ice”.
Good friendships remind you of your worth when you shortchange yourself
They are deep chats at 1am over a Sauvy B
They are a declaration of love over too many gins (£96.00 too many, to be precise) and keeping a look out while one of you steals a plate as collateral
A good friendship like a good cheeseboard, knows no boundaries
They are listening to Joni Mitchell in silence on the way back from a hike, with the occasional outburst in E minor
A good friendship will leave your sides-splitting, but will be the band aid when your heart feels as though it has been split in two
A good friend will undress you and put you to bed when you lose the functionality of your limbs after one too many slut drops in tha club
They are a reminder: “Hey! I’m here if you need me.”
They are on hand with the reassurance that getting it wrong is half of getting it right
Friendship is a compilation of songs you send because they are homesick
They are a limoncello tiramisu
It is listening to Magic FM in your car, sharing a tub of Ben and Jerry’s
They are the effortless decision of wanting to fill delicious, sweet time with them doing absolutely nothing
Friendship agrees to an hour of kayaking, when they could not think of anything worse (friendship is also not being mad when it only lasts 24 minutes)
Friendship is a cardamon bun in the park, enjoyed with tushes fully submerged in grassy verge
They are enablers of unnecessary purchases; “yes Frank, you absolutely need a rose mist spray, the liquid of which collected by blind nuns which will do nothing whatsoever to your skin, and will only sit stagnant in your bathroom cabinet, why would you even ask?!”
They are all of these things and more.
What I’ve learnt in the past 2 years about friendship, is that good friends will always find each other. It does not know the boundary of age, it does not cease to exist past school days or uni. You will find them in the most unexpected places, in the toilet cubicle of a boat; “just so you know – I’m not going to turn round”, or 85,000 feet in the air.
Good friendship do not know distance or time. Your best friendships can be a collation of relationships spanning over 15 years or the duration of the panny-d; you can see them once a week, once a month, twice a year – they will still hug you as tight as a coat in winter whether in immediate vicinity or spirit.
And as I attempt to squash and fit my world of possessions into the space of a Citron C1, I realise that the weight of the thousand plus books in my boot, and my precious coffee machine – is nothing compared to the weight I carry in love (vom, soz), with me always, because of them.
The words above are a pale attempt of my true palette of feelings – but I hope it helped paint something of an interesting canvas for you. Or it at least makes you drop a text to your kitten squad to remind them how freaking swell they are.
And I guess that’s it. Thank you for coming to my emotionally unstable blog post. Regular systems will resume in the form of some kind of slutty pasta dish I concoct upon arrival.