Early this morning, I had an interesting conversation of sorts with an old, old friend. We have not spoken in over a year. I’ve known L since junior high school, or middle school as they call it now. My family played the moving game several times during school years, so L is, or was, about the oldest friend I had.
Unfortunately, alongside friendship and growing up and families and all the rest of existence, there’s politics. L and I certainly never had politics in common, but up until rather recently, that never seemed to matter too much. However, the last presidential election evidently was too much, and L dropped me; an event, which, quite frankly, cut me pretty deeply, and still does. It never even entered my mind that this might happen one day, particularly over something as silly as politics.
Oh yes, I was talking about a conversation. Anyway, L called me. I can’t really tell you what the talk was about, or even exactly what was said, except that we talked for a long time about families and places and old times, and people we both know. I turned around to grab something…and found myself looking at my cat (who was lying right there on the bed with me, looking at my face, apparently deeply concerned), and the bright red numbers on the alarm clock.
Unfortunately, alongside friendship and growing up and families and all the rest of existence, there’s politics. L and I certainly never had politics in common, but up until rather recently, that never seemed to matter too much. However, the last presidential election evidently was too much, and L dropped me; an event, which, quite frankly, cut me pretty deeply, and still does. It never even entered my mind that this might happen one day, particularly over something as silly as politics.
Oh yes, I was talking about a conversation. Anyway, L called me. I can’t really tell you what the talk was about, or even exactly what was said, except that we talked for a long time about families and places and old times, and people we both know. I turned around to grab something…and found myself looking at my cat (who was lying right there on the bed with me, looking at my face, apparently deeply concerned), and the bright red numbers on the alarm clock.
The whole episode had been a dream. I had evidently gotten up, turned off the alarm, and fallen back asleep. An extremely real dream: I mean, that conversation seemed REAL to me. I do not generally have dreams like that, quite so vivid or about persons of importance to me so I suppose on some level I must have needed that “contact” even if it was only with chemical and electrical processes in my own head. I immediately thanked God for the opportunity to talk once more to my, I suppose, ex-friend, even if only to an image in my head.
2 comments:
I hate having dreams like that. They haunt me for days. And I'm quite sure you're as you describe yourself in your blog. I know I'm JUST like you described me in your comments on mine! Thanks for surfing by.
Our mind has wonderful ways of trying to heal us. Having that reassurance from an old friend was important to you so I wouldn't discount its meaning. For all you know, he was dreaming something similar on his end. Don't give up on him yet; he still may come around.
I know it can be difficult when friends have differing political views - I say that as pretty much the only one of my kind in Austin.
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