How do we move beyond the friendships of our youth to have middle aged friendship with the friends of our youth? What I mean: how do I move beyond the shape of the friendships of my youth and mold my oldest friendships to fit with who I am now? It seemed so effortless this last spring as I visited a dear friend from my early adult life, whom I hadn't seen for 16 years. It was effortless because we had both missed the darkest times of our friends lives to go be productive. After spending 18-21 hanging out and having fun we had left town in opposite directions to go to school and get the heck out of town. My friend has never gone back, to live. He has lived in beautiful places and has married the love of his life and they are living happily ever after in a little bungalow in Portland.
Although my friend never moved back, I stayed in the town of our youth for one extra year and came back for 6 months more before my complete departure. My friend and I had really parted ways as close friends even sooner than that. It was during this time that some of my life's darkest moments took place. Moments that were totally self induced and for the most part, took place through no ones fault but my own. These moments shaped many of my old friendships into what they still are seventeen years later. I have friends that I had mystical magical evenings with. Fueled by
nothing but water, life, music and love to intoxicate us we talked and
played till the sun came up. However, I also have sweet dear friends that I did fun lively things with, but I was so intoxicated I can barely remember what we did or who was there. I have other friends that don't remember the simplest of times because, well, I might have been high, but they were secretly smoking speed or even shooting it between their toes. I had friends I watched, as they smoked heroin or cocaine and chased it with a snorted a line of something.
Some friends were all in the same, some were only the first two, and still others could be any combination. With the exception of those who ripped me off, ended up in jail or went totally bonkers any who survived to the middle age spread are welcome to be my friends. This is my challenge. Who I was as an 18-22 year old has drastically changed and sometimes who they were has also greatly changed, though sometimes, well, they haven't changed at all or not very much it seems. How do we accept one another?
I recently found out how. We visit one another without judgement, take in all that has happened in the intermittent time we were apart as we combine the experiences of the past with the journey up to the present and the knowledge that we have gained. In the end, those friends who can still see me and love me are my truest of friends.
I can tell my newer friends of the last five years about my past, but to them it sounds like exaggerated fodder for late night gab. How can a mom, a librarian, a teacher have that many friends who are recovering addicts, cutters, pushers and convicts? Little do they know they are getting the edited version that I think their suburban minds can handle. For those in the know, ya you know I am all of this and so much more.
