No, I’m not talking about God and Santa Clause.
I’m talking about the friends you make online. Those that you’ve never met, but are just as good of friends as those you may see everyday, if not better. They are just as real to you as anyone else, and the fact that you’ve never touched their hand doesn’t mean they’re not important or that they don’t matter.
Zoeyjane is quite simply, amazing. I’ve never met such a strong, resilient, gorgeous person. She’s so beautifully broken, so hardened and worldly. She’s so aware and realized. She’s a wonderful mother to a breathtaking, spirited child that will one day be as amazing as her mama is. She’s strong in her convictions, unafraid to offer up and receive dissenting opinions. I admire her, and I love her. When someone hurts her, I want to hurt them. When she’s upset or angry, so am I. I feel the need to protect her, although I know she’s more than capable of protecting herself. She’s been there for me, listened to me rant and rave and bitch and moan. She hasn’t been afraid to tell me exactly how it is, to let me know when I’m being irrational. She’s stopped me from making serious mistakes with a simple ‘no’ instant message and talked me off of ledges more times that I, and I’m sure she especially, care to count. Most recently, she’s kept my feet on the ground as I was swept up in a swell of varying emotions that could have easily damaged me, and insisted that I do what I feel and stop being so fucking ridiculous – to come to certain realizations and try spontaneity once in a while.
Lucky is my conscious. I’ve called her that so many times before. She’s honest. She’s blunt but never tactless and she’ll cause me to admit things that I would never have even realized without her direct statements. It’s been quite a while since we met, and we still talk every day, even if it’s just a few words. She helps me see the best and worst in me and attempts to help me move towards bettering myself. She knows me better than most people in real life, and can see right through my words to what I’m feeling. When we disagree, we can disagree and it doesn’t make either of us bitter or resentful. She has a talent for randomness that rivals my own and I still don’t understand how we can go from loving or hating our vaginas to me making Satan’s chili. She’s supportive, but not in a Woooooo! way. She’s beautiful and giving and oh so funny and she reminds me of a more intense version of myself (yes I said more intense. You think I’m whatever you think I am? Please.).
In July, I will meet these two in person.
I will force Zoeyjane’s tall, thin frame into the tightest bear hug she’s ever received and keep her there so much longer than she’s comfortable, knowing she doesn’t like to be touched. We will experience physical pain and triumph together as we have virtually. We will laugh and dish and bitch and flirt and bask in each other’s glow, me amazed at how this person, this sister of mine is actually actualized. I will sit with her and Miss and we will discuss our commune and whether it’s better suited for SoCal or San Francisco.
I will attack Lucky with the force of a stampede of horses and bowl her over, crying and cursing myself out for crying simultaneously. I will thank her in person for the years that she has been here for me, from causing me to question my motives and tactics at being a wife and mother. For listening to me cry last January before I was arrested, talking with me about Jason and DUB and letting me into her life. For being the weird, amazing person she is. For not helping me one bit with my addiction to delicious foods, for making me say things like ‘that ice cream is sexy’. For calling me on my bullshit, telling me to get rid of my fear, grow the fuck up and do what’s right for myself and my daughters. For letting me into her life and talking to me, and for just being my e-best friend. She will take me around her city and we’ll shop for t-shirts at Threadless and eat what she calls ‘normal’ pizza.
In July, they will be my in real life friends, and not imaginary ones. But, they already are.
[comments closed for the first time on a substantial post. OMG!]
Comments on this entry are closed.