Finding Friends

I spent my twenties looking for love. For the perfect soul mate, I would spend the rest of my life with. I wasn't alone. We were all looking for love! My friends, my flatmates, my swim buddies and my Yoga friends. As we moved, with our nimble limbs and unbroken ligaments, through relationships we thought would "end" in family, we cheered each other on. We talked to each other into the wee hours of the morning, across timezones, sorting through intense emotions. Somebody would break up on a Monday morning and they would be back together by Wednesday. But we would all be there for them through Monday and Tuesday. 

We had our own little rituals. When one of us was upset, the other would make her a bubble bath. Then she would sit on the edge of the tub with a glass of wine. Drinking in the bath-tub was the luxury which came with extreme sadness or derilious happiness. There would be happy times too. When we went off on road trips, got lost and blamed the GPS. Taking coffee breaks in godforsaken places and blaming American coffee. Hooking up our phones to the car and playing Adele over and over. Sometimes choking her with our own voices. 

We were sharing angst. We were sharing uncertainty, but we never fully grasped the completeness of our friendship. 

Then we got all that we dreamed of! Soul mates and children. We kept up. Sending little booties in mail. Calling, skyping, whatsapping, Facebooking. But we gasped for breath and realized we needed some local friends. 

For the first time in our lives, perhaps after kindergarten, we set out to find new friends. Without a toolkit or a self help book. Without a procedure, we were thrown into a world full of people who were out for friends. Not love. 

And we realized just how hard it is! After losing touch with so many, after falling off with a few, after spending two hundred evenings straight reading aloud the Very Hungry Caterpillar, we set out to make friends who'd want to sit down and have a glass of wine with us. And talk about adult things. Like what? Was Adele still cool? 

It was just like dating. All over again. 

There were a lot to go through whom we didn't match with at all! Some asked us how much we earned. Some were too right-of-the-center. Some weren't really looking for friendship, and we didn't want anything else. At least with them! Some kept talking about kids and we were trying to run away from ours! Some became competitive, right away. Some searched for and revived the therapist in us. 

We were annoying too. We took too much space. No filters. Oversharers. Over thinkers. Attention seekers. Too previleged. Out of touch. 

But it was much better to be not liked in our thirties. We could shrug and turn around. Return to our babies and read the Very Hungry Caterpillar for the three hundredth time. We could tell ourselves that it is a good thing it didn't work out. We could read that book now. We could get more sleep. Smuggle some rum in our tea. Get our nails done. 

It was easier to get betrayed when we were younger. It was easier to get bullied. It was easier to overlook a rivalry. It was easier to forgive. It was easier to cry and rush into the arms of a friend. It was easier to vent and not worry about being betrayed. 

Now I need a band for my knee sometimes. For the ligament I tore, running on concrete in my twenties. It is the same for friendship. But for every ten people I meet, I find one. Who'd sit next to me with a glass of wine, on the edge of the tub, and talk me out of my confusion.