The Distance to Intimacy

Day 82

Friday

Standing amidst the hub of imbibers and conversers I let my eyes tip toe about the kitchen, out to the hall way where the crowd of people poured out into the living room, and on into my roommate’s bedroom. Ringing with English our apartment held the echoes of majority of the English professors living in Malaga. A small party had suddenly grown into a gathering of all English speakers in the 10 mile range. All the conversations followed similar routes…”1st year teaching…..I work in ___......just graduated from…….next year…..?? Yeah, Spain is great. Different, but great.” And as we repeated the ritual of making a stranger a friend I was struck by the great wealth of potential friends encircling me rather tightly. Where had all these people been all those lonely afternoons I walked by myself? Only the promise of English and alcohol had brought them out of the woodwork.

With each new face, I forgot another name. With each new story I heard, my own became shorter and more concise. And slowly a strange thing began to happen. Instead of eagerly wishing to meet everyone and befriend them all I wanted them to leave. I wanted my apartment empty again. It was not that anyone was terribly awful, they all were nice people, but they weren’t MY people.

It was the back breaking work of building a new community that threw me into a funk. I realized just how special my intimate friends were and how fragile their relationship really was. And I marveled at the work I had already done to create close friends….and amidst all the other things I was dealing with, I just couldn’t muster the energy to make new friends of the same caliber. How could I? I would never dance salsa with these people day after day for 4 years. I would never bike across the country with these people. I would never be caught at 3am in the library writing a thesis with these people. I was just drinking and talking. And the superficiality, the artificiality disgusted me.

Maybe it was just because it was 3am and I had been up since 6am for work, but I was in a fickle, nostalgic mood. Granted, I stuck it out and did my best “I want to be your friend!” façade till the floor cleared out and I could breathe deep again. But all I really wanted to do was call up my old friends and say, “You are so very special to me! I am so grateful to have you (and to have had you) in my life! Thank you for loving me! And thank you for the time that fostered our friendship”

I hope your heart hears this message; it’s torn open my heart and made me a humble admirer of the grace of old friendships.

I love you and I am so grateful for you. The time we’ve shared is a gift I will forever be repaying.

And what a generous gift - to love another person, unconditionally.




I don't love you enough to pick your nose, but you get the idea. Intimacy. That's what I'm talking about.