I was invited to help celebrate a birthday last night – a simple evening of food, drink, and conversation with close friends. After the month long battle with a seemingly endless succession of viruses, my body seemed to sense that it was time to give me a break, so began cooperating just in time to allow me a pass for the evening.
While sitting at the dinner table making polite conversation – as you do – I started thinking about friends, and friendship – and how bad I am at them. If not invited, I would have been just as happy to sit at home and watch a movie on my own – and yet when I arrive at a gathering I’ve been invited to, despite apprehension and getting over myself, once there I count myself lucky to have been invited, and to have friends.
I make no sense at the best of times.
After arriving home last night, I spent an hour or so sitting on my own in the lounge, chatting with a far flung friend on the internet. We emptied our heads somewhat – no doubt aided by several glasses of wine earlier in the evening for me. I remember talking about the nature of chance friendships on the internet, and how they have become an escape for me from the obligations and expectations of daily life. A rabbit hole of sorts.
It sounds strange to say it, but I almost value the few close friendships I have made across the vast reaches of the internet more than those I have made in the real world. When you know you might never meet somebody, a level of filtering is removed – and the thoughts, hopes, dreams and truths you share with each other are somehow more vital than those you might share face to face.
What am I saying here? Maybe that I value the friendships I have forged on the internet more than I realised, and should really tell those closest to me how important they are from time to time.