friendship

My actions were characteristic of me, this post less so.

We neither of us are really sure of how, exactly, the friendship got started, but it did center around music and graduated to code and phone calls. That was years ago, and my clearest memory of them was walking outside on a lazy summer night, sitting outside in the driveway, bare feet on concrete, eyes to sky, and watching the stars circle as we talked.

He was a man unmet to me, but not to you.I’d toyed with the idea of saving up, of crossing the ocean sometime later this year or early next year, of seeing that great grand Ireland and meeting the two of you for a cup of tea somewhere so that I could marvel at how far you’d come.

For we haven’t talked much lately, what with you off emerald-isleing and me turning librarian…

…and his death beat me to this door.

I had intended a post today of laughter and anticipation and find myself trying to write one of solace.Geof’s sister-in-law Cindy died last night unexpectedly. They had very little warning.

Not that any amount of warning is ever enough.

“I’ll have a little from Column A and a little from Column B, please.”

Short, cryptic, and marginally observational snippets from life in the past week:

You know me. I make a plan, and I sink into it. I was told yesterday by a friend that he envies my focus, and perhaps it’s true; I perceive myself as scatterbrained but maybe it’s not so much so as I tend to think. The books scattered across multiple rooms would certainly belie that opinion.Life’s been odd lately.

I’ve been trying to put it into words and have thrown every attempt away; the entry I quickly entitled ‘braille night’ has been rewritten at least seven times, with every attempt causing me more frustration and leaving me nothing but silence here.

I could think that maybe I dreamed one of you, but not all of you; the carnage of my kitchen proves that you were here, really here, and that this house bore witness to a party the likes of which I haven’t seen in many years. You were here, and I remember sitting in my favorite spot in the the reading room, far-cornered on the thirdhand couch with a drink in my hand, looking from one face to another and smiling to myself as I clutched my drink. “You said you wanted a birthday party!” was exclaimed to me over and over, as Yet Another Geek came here with proffered alcohol and food.