sent with a feather & kisses, starlight & candy…

I don’t have a lot of close friends.  It isn’t that I don’t like other humans, I do.  I simply don’t really get how adults make new friends?  That probably sounds weird, but I don’t know how else to explain it.

I do know many kind, lovely, and funny people—whose company I enjoy.  I would certainly consider them friends, but I never feel completely at ease with them.  I never feel like I can let them see all of my weird.  This isn’t anything against any of them. (It’s not them, it’s me.)  I’m still very skittish about letting new people into my life after my adult naivety lead me to trust several exceedingly callous and manipulative people. Anyway, my point is, I know only a few humans who know my silly and annoying, they love my compassionate and sense of humor, they understand my intelligence, my depression and my weird–and yet they adore me anyway.  They get my bizarre urge to sing at animals and my desire to dance like a flailing muppet.

Despite the Atlantic Ocean’s isolation, I still maintain these close friendships—even when months pass with little contact.   When we get back in touch, we seem to pick up flawlessly where we left off.  It’s beautiful.

Letter from Ariel I
Letter from Ariel

I recently received a hand-written letter from my dear friend, Ariel.  It sat on my cabinet for almost a month.  I took an absurdly long time to actually sit down and read it.  My unusual procrastination was not because I didn’t care what she had to say.  In fact, it was due to the exact opposite.  I knew her words would make me feel very, very happy—yet sad at the same time.  Love can provoke a certain form of loneliness.

polaroid of Ariel with my Isabelle cat
polaroid of Ariel with my Isabelle cat

She started the letter last July, updated it in October and it finally arrived in my little metal post box in December. Walking to my car with a delightful giddy sensation in my heart.  I placed the letter in my purse, when I got into my car and drove home.  Placing the little green envelope on my cabinet, I had every intention of reading it once I grabbed a fresh cup of coffee.

And there it sat quietly, for weeks.  Pressed between a table lamp and a painting, I saw it several times a day—until I finally read it.

I can imagine her voice, her life, her happy moments, her unhappy moments.  I feel connected despite the vast geographical distance between us.  Her life has certainly changed in the years between when we last saw each other—I suppose mine has too.  Yet she’s still the same beautiful individual I love.  Ariel is one of those people with an almost childlike naivety and wonder at the world.  She is truly caring and compassionate in a way that helps to renew my faith in humans.  I am blessed to know her.  I felt my eyes water a little as I finished her letter.  It was amazing to hear from her, but what I would really love is to simply sit on a sofa with coffee and talk with her for hours.  I would love to hear her voice and see her happy sparkling eyes—but until then, a letter will do.

Someday they will sing songs about us.  The two friends….who now climb up lamposts, dance under the stars and on castles, swim in rocky lakes, smoke clove cigarettes together, laugh and talk…–Letter from Ariel

9 Replies to “sent with a feather & kisses, starlight & candy…”

  1. What a moving post. I think it’s harder to make friends as you grow older – as you say, we all unfortunately encounter people who are less than honest and nice. However, it isn’t that you NEVER make friends, just that you make fewer ones that are more likely to last. Maybe we’re all a bit too indiscriminate when we’re very young? :)


    1. Maybe? I don’t know. I assume you are right though, it isn’t that new friends never come along, it just takes longer. It is also different, since I am a military spouse, we move every so often, so we are coming and go in and out of people’s lives and they come in and out of our lives.


  2. What a strange coincidence, just today my best friend whom I haven’t seen for almost 3 years called after not responding to my messages for several months. We spoke on Skype for 10 minutes and it was like there is no time and distance between us, and I realized how important it is for me to know that we are still the same best friends regardless of the time and distance obstacles. I even posted our old pics in my blog. Perhaps I should write her a hand-written letter.. thank you for another inspirational post :)


    1. Isn’t life crazy like that? I love it. I need to write Ariel back, but I am not even sure if I have a notebook in the house anymore. Thanks for sharing about you and your friend. It makes me happy to hear about the good things with other people.


  3. Ah, the irony. I bookmarked this post in my RSS to read later, and I am just reading it now. Being lucky enough to have met Ariel in person makes this post even better.

    I really could not agree more with what you said about making friends. In recent years I have also been finding myself feeling a bit lonely and confused about making friends. I still have friends from high school, but I often feel like there is little in common — our whole bond relies on memories from ten years ago. And the friends I do have things in common with live far away.

    I do love reading these posts…thinking more deeply about life really seems to give more insight to what we end up creating.


    1. Thank you for taking the time to read and your comment, Spunky–that is sweet. It is so weird. I know here–being part of the military, I feel a lot of people have no interest in my as a friend because I am not a mother. Do you find it easier to bond with other moms? I don’t know. I love being an adult, but sometimes, it is lame.


      1. Actually, I feel like I’ve had a harder time bonding with other parents. The parent friends I do have are old friends from highschool. I find myself being turned off my a lot of moms because they have this “I’m a mom and that makes me the best” attitude. I can see where women without children would feel really uncomfortable. I remember in h.s. or college, I would just walk up to someone and start talking. Now if you do that, people think you’re insane. It IS lame.


        1. Interesting. I like that you get where I am coming from. I tend to just get people not understanding why I have chosen not to have kids yet. I am also awkward meeting new people, so that doesn’t help. I miss having humans like you near me in real life.


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