It’s been one of the best Christmases – and one of the worst. Never have I ever felt so present right here and now, I have also never felt so detached from myself and my life. Mostly, I go about my days, the phone firmly attached to my hand in case there is a call, a text, anything.
Having had one of my best friends, and quite possibly one of the best people in the world come all the way up here and brave -30 to see me has been amazing. There is a certain kind of way to be around someone you’re truly and utterly comfortable with, where you don’t always have to actively do something all of the time – it’s a relaxing sort of co-existing. We’ve talked a lot, of course. Sometimes though subjects, sometimes light, ranging from matters of the heart and theater and politics and whether Kit Harrington’s hair is sufficient as a hat beyond the wall. It’s been amazingly fun to show her my new hometown, it’s oddness and specialties, the little quirks I’ve come to love and the weirdness I’ve found hard to fully accept. Also, the woman makes a mean falafel.
It’s been a great reminder that distance doesn’t always matter when it comes to relationships. Something I already knew – but sometimes being reminded doesn’t hurt.
Doesn’t hurt one bit.