Tonight, my girlfriend back in Austria went to visit her best friend. She has to do some maths studying, and her friend offered help. Why does this make me think? Well…
Because it brought to my attention a truth about myself. A truth about my life. I’m trying to deny it at times, but it’s there, always lingering in the back of my head. And sometimes — more frequently lately — it comes popping up and stands right there in front of my eyes: I do not have a best friend anymore.
Sure, I used to have one. More than one in my life, but not at the same time. I guess it is my life style in recent years, my coming and going, travelling around the world. I’m not in close enough proximity to keep best friends. It’s sad, but it’s the truth. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. But absence also makes the heart forget.
Can I do anything about it? Sure, I try to keep in contact, writing now and then (I do hate using the telephone). But there’s just no substitute for going over to a friend’s place regularly, or for going out every Thursday night to our favourite haunt like we used to do for some time. It was just my two best friends and me back then, sitting in that cocktail bar, drinking, smoking, and playing poker. I almost always lost, but I sure miss it.
Robert McKee once told his audience in his “Story” seminar in London that in order to be a writer, they’d better be prepared to give up love, and possibly friendship, too. He’d experienced it, and it’s a price many have to pay. There’s another saying, going roughly like “Those who want to lead the orchestra must turn their backs to the crowd.” I sure hope that doesn’t mean I have to eventually abandon all my friends. I’m feeling lonely as it is.
