Saturday, November 7, 2009

To Betty

I have a friend I've never seen, and she's lovely.

We know very little about each other save the trivial things, like what we're currently reading or what we had for dinner. But sometimes-- often-- it's the other things that seem insignificant by comparison: what we do for a living, where we are on the map, what kind of childhood we had, or what our religion is. During our conversations, it's the trivialities that are exalted.

Our association rejects judgment, and it's liberating to open up to her. I can be as shallow, histrionic, self-absorbed, pathetically insecure, problematic, playful, vulgar, or incoherently drunk as is real. It feels safe to own up to my weaknesses because they are of no consequence to her. Although she has touched my life-- and I can only speak for myself-- she is not in essence a visceral part of it.

The friendship is comforting in that, despite our physical absence-- our virtual nonexistence-- and at the same time, precisely by that reason, we are more forgiving of and patient with each other.

We owe nothing to one another barring conditions mandated by honesty and mutual respect, and never have I experienced such glorious deliverance.

I know she expects no gratitude for the friendship she gives so generously, but I also know she'll forgive me, maybe even find it amusing, that I gush.

So, to Betty... be safe in the knowledge that it won't matter to me if you're bald or bearded. In my mind, precious few could be more beautiful.


Peter S. said...

Hi, Ajie. I can completely relate to the idea that, sometimes, it's the trivialities that are actually more rewarding to talk about. We've all been preoccupied about what our jobs, our relationships, that we find it satisfying to talk about the small stuff, which in reality, are what really define us.

mental wayfarer said...

True. And i feel extremely lucky to be surrounded by good people, and even luckier to be able to call them friends.:)