Friends. Friends are good, yeah? There’s songs about them. And TV sitcoms that revolve around groups of them. Literary novels and epic poems written in their honour. They’re everywhere. Look! A friend! How lovely. I love my friends. Y’all are supery-dupery niceness on a plate, with added shmink and rum cocktails. Innit.
We need friends. Friends get us through all the troublesome bits of our lives. They lift you above the scummy patches. They make you lemonade when all you got is lemons. Or something. I’ve counted on my friends A LOT in recent times and I am truly grateful to every single one of them. Makes me feel all warm and squishy inside, it does. Though that could be the rum cocktails.
This is why I am ruminating on friendship: I’ve been worrying the last week whether it is possible to remain friends with my ex. I mean, sure, it is POSSIBLE. But do I want to? This is a man I am still married to, but separated from. By all accounts we now lead different lives. He has his friends, a new job starting soon which means a move to a different city, opportunities to get on with things afresh and – ostensibly – without my input. Fine; fair enough. Am happy with that. I’m doing my own kind of moving on. We’re cool. It’s groovy.
But friends? Like I said, friends do good things for you. They’re yo buddies, ya mates. I can’t think that I’d call my ex if I needed a good sob about my love life. Ack, no. Similarly, I don’t want to know about his. I’m guessing that topic is totes off limits, as might be money, personal bodily malfunctions, family matters, celebrity divorce (too topical) and, erm, the state of the economy (just cos I find it boring). So we talk about the usual stuff, which generally means: Moo. And films. Again, fine. No problemo. I can do the whole ‘let’s be amicable’ bit. It’s when things get a bit iffy that I baulk.
Like last weekend, when I had some issues with one of his so-called friends. Ha! That’s a whole different vent about friendship and what it means. But I guess y’all got the gist of that anyway. Yeah. Ahem. Indeed, I just feel awkward now, knowing that a person I object to rather violently is still a part of his life, and it seems I can’t do anything about it. Fun times. On top of that, it’s our wedding anniversary at the end of this month. A day of sadly fond remembrances. Huzzah. Wahoo. That’ll be weird on a stick.
So it’s a tricky concept, methinks. The whole friends-with-my-ex thing. Am I hoping for too much? Is there always going to be a barrier there? Or do I just need to give us some time? Everything is still so raw. I can’t conceive of ANYTHING long-term right now, cos if a year ago you’d have said all this would be happening, I’d have guffawed in yer face and most likely given you a Chinese burn for being a cheeky minx and making up such horrors about me and mine.
I’m sure what we have is better than what others have. In fact, I know it is. And I know I’m most likely overthinking again. But that’s what blogs are for, right? Overthinking spillage? But I genuinely want to know: how do I deal with this?