“Want us to come now?” “Yes, please. Bring wine. And chocolate.”
So many times I have heard, uttered, read or typed this. It would be impossible and arbitrary to try to list the occasions when good friends have saved my sanity. The beauty of it is that I don’t even need to try, because they know who they are and they know when I mean. Those times when tears, snot and dignity have all flowed freely; when there have been no words that fit, yet we have managed to talk – and somehow, bizarrely, also laugh – until we could hardly breathe. Times when you are beginning to despair that you are all alone in this world, and no one can every truly come close to understanding, and your friend will find a single sentence that is so close to describing it that it is practically poetic. The sheer relief, the shoulder-lightening, heart-warming, hope- enlightening relief of hearing your own song of heartbreak and torture sung back to you, in a beautiful melody of understanding and recognition.
My friends, with their faults and flaws, their individual idiosyncrasies, their warmth and their wonder, have rescued me from the depths of depression, from the brink of breaking and from the edge of fear and self-doubt. More than once, and I am sure they will again, and I love them for it.
Plus, they always bring snacks, for which I love them even more.