the art of friendship

there are things you do for each other. and things you do not. things you put up with. things you forgive. i may not be a perfect friend but i know i am a good friend. loyal to the core and forgiving as hell.

so, of course, i expect the same.

and i expect patience in particular. funny enough, this is, personally, my biggest downfall: patience. but it's not with others. it's with myself. (see below about letting go and control and all that). i get incredibly impatient when i can't control things that i think i should. i am, however, very patient with my friends. very patient.

anyway, i am blogging about a friend who thinks i let her down. but, you know what, she let me down, too.

i have a story that illustrates a similar situation that i found myself in. and what i did and how it turned out. the way i behaved was how i would expect any friend of mine to behave:

five years ago i was living in new hampshire and i went to visit a friend in new york city. she was having relationship troubles and feeling kinda down. i was going through a divorce. i figured we could help each out. i was alright with the divorce as i'd been the one to ask for it. her, not so much. she was pretty upset at the time. her relationship was unraveling and she was afraid it was over.

so i packed up my trusty steed and drove the six hours to spend the weekend with her. a "girl's weekend" if you will. (take note: if boys wish to glom onto any said "girl's weekend" i have never, ever taken offense. i like boys. always have). i digress. back to the story at hand. ok, so, i did the long, hectic drive. it was worth it. it was so great to see her. we hung out, had some wine, then went to dinner. talked about the stuff, the guy sitch. all of it. a while later, we're at this martini bar/restaurant in lower manhattan (actually the same place where they had their rehearsal dinner), and guess who shows up.

yep.

him. the guy. the man. i could see her heart almost pound right out of her chest when she saw him. at that point, i knew i was just fading into the woodwork.

good thing i'd brought my journal. and that i liked martinis. and that i'm not shy.

because i sat in that martini bar/restaurant for, oh, a good three hours. maybe more. they left for a while. came back. i talked to strangers at the bar. took notes. swilled vodka from fancy glasses.

was i bored? at times. was i annoyed? eh. a little. but was i so angry that i would consider leaving? hell no.

and i'm glad i didn't. i'm glad i was...patient. forgiving. understanding. and kind.

because that's what true friends do for each other. and the next day she apologized profusely and i said, whatever, trust me, i understand. and we walked and talked for so many hours around central park in the august heat that my ankles swelled for days. and we talked endlessly about her broken heart. and his. and what should they do. and all of those important things you just need to feel and discuss with people who know you well. and i was that friend for her that weekend.

so when someone came to visit me recently for a planned "girl's weekend" and i happened to run into someone i still care very much for and with whom i felt the need to step outside of a bar to talk to....i expected my friend, who was talking to some guy she'd called over from across the bar, to wait. yes, i sure did. i expected her to wait for a bit. and understand.

that's what the kind of friends i need in my life do. and will do. just like i did for that friend in new york five years ago. and i'd do it again. (note: always bring a journal, an iPod, a Blackberry these days, whatever you might need to keep yourself busy for stretches of time if angst-friend is in need).

it's what you do.

that's all.

the art of friendship is inherent, just like any talent.

i suppose i was born with it.

maybe others aren't so lucky.