Sparrow,
You know how to hit below the belt, don’t you?! You know
that I love nothing better than warm days and flip flops. Don't get me wrong, I smiled for you,
when I read about how beautiful the weather is in Vancouver in your last post, but I cursed you at the same time! Mostly, though, I was thrilled for you, and
I longed to be with you, walking around Vancouver, in flip flops with a coffee
in hand, chatting with you again. That would be lovely, to be with you in one
of my favourite cities. I’m going to start a savings fund, a “Visiting Sparrow”
fund, only I’m afraid I won’t want to come home again!
Talking about visiting you, Sparrow, and about how much I’d
like to be in your company, makes me wonder about what people think about our
friendship when they read our blog. To say
that we are “friends”, is a disservice, really, and I hope I’ve made
this clear:
You are not my “friend”; you are a part of me.
When we used to meet up in the backyard, often after long
periods of time because we were both so busy, it was as if we had been together
the day before, wasn’t it? I would find myself telling you deeply personal
things and not wondering how I could unburden myself like that. I am, as are
you, extremely guarded and private, despite my blogging activity (!) and I
think there are few people who could tell you anything truly personal about my
history. Oh, I’m sure they could tell you about the public persona I present, but
very little else. You, on the other hand, without trying, manage to learn
things about me that don’t come out as a chronicling of my history, but rather,
as a natural conversation, a desire to share.
When you announced you were leaving Ontario, packing up and going on the road, I was thrilled for you. I remember the conversation like it was yesterday. I knew you had always wanted to go to BC, to see more of the country and travel. We talked about it a lot and I knew, because I know you, that you were eventually going to make that happen. I was thrilled, when you told me (remember how you hesitated for fear of hurting me?), but I was shaken. I had just announced to you that I had left “HIM” and it hit us that life was going to change dramatically for us both and, potentially, pull us apart. I couldn’t help but be sad, nostalgic, and at a loss even though I was thrilled for you.
In true Birdie and Sparrow style, though, we rallied, came
together with a “blog” plan, and managed to stay as close as ever. I feel your physical
presence slipping away from me, but oddly, we've become closer with each email,
each text, each Facebook interaction, haven't we? And, I suppose, that’s the
thing about not being in someone’s physical presence - you have to take
advantage of each opportunity and say things that are more important, more honest, that will
connect you to another or you risk losing that person. Man, Sparrow, if our
reader’s only knew the stuff I have told you, via email, since you left in
July and vice versa! Actually, thinking about it, that might make this a more interesting blog!
This journey of mine, to a huge degree, is fuelled by
friendship and I actively pursue it. I have created a world of
social activity and interactions that, at times, threatens to overwhelm me
even as it bolsters me. I’ve learned to open myself to others, to laugh with
them and sit patiently with them through bad moments. I have many new people in my life
that I call friend and a dear soul, Raven, that has managed to work her way
into my heart so that, now, I have trouble going a day without contacting her. I've learned the value of friendship and connections this year and I’m a
better person for it, my journey a less bumpy ride because of it.
In the end, though, I owe you a huge thank you for this
because it was through my conversations with you that I discovered what it
meant to be open with another human being, to not shy away from verbalizing
emotion, needs, wants. It’s because of you and your incredible ability to
listen and be compassionate that I found an honest voice with which to pour my
heart and soul into this blog (so, if you find me to be a rambling egocentric
fool, you have Sparrow to thank). Talking to you was a therapeutic and
safe way to learn to open my mouth, and by extension, my heart.
So, yes, Sparrow, I would like nothing better than to walk
around Vancouver with you, to lounge with a book, to eat an actual and not
virtual, slice of your cake. I know that being with you again would be like slipping
on a beloved cosy sweater; comforting and warm.
And, for anyone out on a journey like we two “rambling birds”, may I
suggest you make sure your heart is open and that you have a flock to fly with.
Sparrow, most certainly keeps me sane during some crazy times and I owe her so
very much for that.
I love you, Sparrow and I thank you for your friendship and love.
Red Bird
It is ALWAYS better when we're together...even if we're not in the same room
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