Somehow two weeks have slipped by without me writing a word here, and as I now sit in front of my laptop, I still don't know what is is I have to say. But, I do feel like typing.
It's been an odd couple of weeks which culminated in a very unplanned day out. A morning coffee turned into a day of confessions, sharing of heartaches and much fun.
I have a friend whose heart is broken. We found him on his own in the pub on Saturday afternoon in a pitiful state. He was brave and tired.
He met a girl in the US a few months ago. A relationship and anticipation began. He's just returned from her. When he set off he never doubted that a plan would be made, that he'd found he girl of his dreams. His 'one'.
He told us his story of days at the zoo and walking in new places, of promise and the future. Tears so close we couldn't hug him, he had to just keep talking without interference.
This vision was quickly robbed from him as it all started to fall to pieces. The girl sounds unsettled, insecure. The reasons why of the tale don't really matter.
What matters is that he tried. He believed in the dream and travelled thousands of miles to find out if she would share it with him. He still believes that one day he will be loved in the way he so much wants. Despite the failed relationships of his past, he's moving towards that person.
I admire him. He is scared and still keeps trying. He is braver than me, who hides from the very risks that are worth taking and doesn't really believe that she will ever be loved.
We ended the evening a group of single frineds, relying on each other for solace and companionship - an alternative family - laughing.
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