While in Cancun back in March, Dale and I had a pretty drunken discussion on our hotel patio, not really about anything, but at the same time, a conversation about everything. We talked a bit about politics, a bit about spirituality, about the past, and about the future. Jump ahead three months, and here I am, on my own patio, drinking a rum and diet coke, surrounded by green tomatoes, looking up at the stars that were absent from my life for the last five years, thinking back on my first five months back home.
Yesterday I drove out to Surrey to hang out at a brew pub with some friends. Afterwards, I decided to give my old friend Harveen a call, a friend who was pretty much instrumental in my survival through university, and yet a friend I hadn’t talked to in about two years. Despite having gone through about three phones since that time, I dialed Harv’s number from memory without even thinking about it.
Fifteen minutes later I was at Harv’s house, sitting on his couch, talking about the old days. I was actually Harv’s best man in his wedding, which made it all the more strange that I hadn’t seen him in two years. Last time I saw him he had just got married — now he has two kids. It was also weird driving to his house, since I also drove past the area where my ex-girlfriend and I used to live. It seems so long ago now, so many worlds away.
To be honest, last night I felt like a bad friend. I can use whatever excuse I want about being busy, but those excuses just don’t cut it. I’m pretty thankful that I’ve made the transition to a simpler life, and actually have a bit of time to reconnect with the people who really meant something to me. Jobs come and go, but true friends last forever.