Friendship

I have long held a selfish desire for a lifelong friend.  My mom has lifelong friends--she's regularly in touch with people she's known since before I was born.  Friends she can always rely on for a shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, or someone to share a laugh with.
Likewise, in numerous movies, I've been shown how some people are able to be close across the country and through the years.  And so I've wanted it.

Unfortunately for me, there's been no lifelong friend.  I've had friendships here are there, but something always seems to pry the relationship apart.
Yes, I've got the Mister.  But sometimes I really want a non-related friend's perspective to remind me of sanity.

In high school, I was an unpopular kid.  I didn't drink, didn't smoke, didn't do drugs, didn't sleep around.  I liked to stay home and read on the weekends.
I had a friend, a couple years older than me, who lost interest in me when she met her now-husband.  He partied, she liked him, so she partied.  It's high school, I can understand the immaturity of that relationship.
I had another friendship off and on in high school who put me down a lot.  I'd mention a decision, she'd claim she'd never do that.  She made fun of me with other people in her clique.  Whatever.
College came along and I didn't really form any friendships at school until I was almost done.  The one person I did start hanging out with outside of school was a couple years older than me with a husband and two kids.  She tended to get drunk quite a bit--even peed in the middle of my street one night.  Once again, I'm not a big partier....she stopped returning my calls.
A couple years later, Jo bumped into the Mister and then ended up calling me.  We reconnected and started spending time together again.  I tutored her oldest daughter on flute, even letting her use my own instrument.  I loved her family, her 3 kids and menagerie of animals.  I even thought her husband was cool.  I thought we were close.  I thought we had a good, strong friendship.
...and then Gunner died.  The Mister and I decided to put Gunner to sleep.  Two days before our housewarming party.  Not the best timing ever.  The following day, while moping and weeping, my friend called to tell me she wouldn't be coming to the party because her other friend, out of town, was having a meltdown and needed her.  I didn't answer the phone, I wasn't ready to talk to anyone yet, so the message went to voicemail.  I was cleaning the house, getting it ready for the party, and forgot to call her back or text her.  So she assumed I was mad at her.  She called me again the night of the party and left a message about how she was "sorry, but I have a friend in need, I'm so sorry I missed your party."  Yes, she got snippy at me because I hadn't returned her phone call, and she'd assumed I was mad and not understanding of the situation.
Glad to know that she knew me so well.
In any case, I called her back, but my calls went unanswered as well, so I tried to calmly explain via voicemail that I wasn't mad at her, I'd been upset and hadn't wanted to talk or put on a happy face.
I haven't spoken to her in 2 1/2 years now.  Her daughter and I still talk every now and then--she's still playing my flute and loving it.  -sigh

So now here I am.  I've finally managed to figure myself out, and learn to accept myself.  I call myself an introvert, not as an excuse, but because I can no longer think that there's something wrong with me--I'm just different than a majority of people.

And I've somehow stumbled upon someone who continues to put up with me--from a few states away.  I met Alex online a few years ago on a favorite author's fan site messageboard.  She's a few years older than me, married with a couple of stepdaughters.  She lives in the southwest.  A complete opposite from me in a few things, most especially her faith.
She's somewhat of an introvert, though, so we can at least relate to each other that way.  Our separate senses of humor seem to be from the same source somehow, too.
I can honestly say I've never known a better friend.  This is the comrade my emotional self has been hoping for for years.  She's pushed me to do things I'd regret not doing.  She's allowed me to be there for her, be her shoulder to cry on, and it's wonderful.  Because not only do I greedily want someone I can have a close friendship with, I want someone to be able to rely on me.  It's hard when things get rough for either of us and all I want to do is give her a hug.  The problem with me is, while introverted, if I connect with someone, I want to hug them.  I'm a hugger.  It's a sickness.  My name is Mel and I'm a hugger.
Anyway.  Alex has been there for me through good times, stressful times, scary times, joyful times and heartbreaking times.  I've tried to be there for her during all those times in her life as well.
Sadly, we've only been able to meet up a couple of times.  Her husband doesn't like me--I'm a bad influence.  Me!  He's an uptight jerk.  But anyway...I hope she continues to call me her friend as time passes.  Because a dark time in her life is becoming lighter and I'm afraid she'll outgrow me when she's completely happy once again.  I want her to be happy, don't get me wrong.  Even if it is with a twit that doesn't deserve her.  But I know that happiness can mean she needs me less.
Yes, I know, I'm insecure and pathetic.  Probably from all my fabulous experiences with "friends" over the years.

I'm so thankful for the internet.  First the Mister, then a twisted sister.  As long as I don't find a baby online, I'm satisfied.  Because, really, that would be awfully freaky.  Babies can't type.