During a much needed Christmas break, my PALs crew and I had expressed that we all wanted to spend some time together. Somehow, some way. 'Cause friendship and all that, our relationship and dynamic one that we all truly cherish. So we did.
On an odd Friday, we met first at Joe's Italian Bistro, and then caravan-ed back down the street to a new cafe by the name of Promenade. Dinner was very nice and warm, though temperatures were frigid at the time. Which I guess made the atmosphere that much more pleasant. Homely. Jokes and compliments started flying around that cramped fall-shaded diner before our complimentary bread and waiter had even arrived. And even with the arrival of our meals, giggles and guffaws spouted off all around. I think the food actually did take a while to come out looking back, but at the time we were so locked in conversation it only enriched the experience. I don't even remember breathing. Only forking down a Philly Cheese steak and laughing. The kind of laughing that split your sides, and reddened your face, and threw your head back. And such good vibes followed in the change of scenery.
Finally settled in the joyful presence of each other, conversation took a deeper turn as we plopped fat and tired on a couch in Promenade. Yeah, a couch. I don't know of any other cafes that have couches, but I'm not complaining.
"Why do you think [insert complex situation or phenomenon] happens?'
"What should I do with [insert situation]"
"How does one [insert anything]"
...
The questions were endless leaves and seasonings tossed into an eclectic salad, healthy for the brain. Some lounged eyes closed seemingly answering to whatever was hovering above them, while Brittany and I ( a friend I came to be close with) doodled. A certain emotionalism about the air. And this went on for some time, until finally the others slowly departed, having had their fill of brain/mind/heart food. Goodbyes rolling off the tongue soft and sweet with each chime of the door. But not Brittany and I, no. We just kept doodling and talking. And I have to say that that was probably the best part of the night. Not anything too objectively special, just doodling. And a few coffee cups and donuts carcasses later, I finally got to see the other side of her. The part of her brain that she doesn't like to think about ( weird, I know), and the other side of her emotions that she chooses not to feel. The one that isn't any more decisive, or selfless, or apparently rude, but raw. And while being fully comforting and understanding, relating where I could, I thoroughly enjoyed this. Indulging in the complexities of her true essence. Why she thinks the way she does. And how.
I've always enjoyed being alone on occasion, sometimes more often than not. But without fail, I always begin to question the actual value of such time. Time that I'm not spending building relationships or enjoying people's company. Or really doing anything for that matter. I know I gain a whole lot from this time, or at least I have in the past (clarity, perspective, peace of mind). But, whose to say my interactions with others can't offer the same? I know it's not possible to find someone who can talk me off my own emotional ledges; not the way that I do. But to not try is to miss out on so much. I have the whole rest of my life after schooling and the passing of family or spouse to be alone. But.. People are such interesting, beautiful creatures that it is in these instances, that I remember why I can't fully commit myself to solitude. Put simply, I'd be missing out on too much.
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