I found myself thinking about people I could actually call my friends ... and why being rather sociable (whenever the situation arose) ... I couldn't but just name very few ...
Why was it that I could easily be on my own and very rarely call upon others for either trivial or less trivial issues? ... Could it be because my childhood deprived me of that (being the sole girl in the household) and books soon filled that void? ... or was it because I feared letting people get closer and be misjudged (as I was several times in my "growing" process) and opted for those "silent friends" who very conveniently were there when I needed them and whom I could "dispose of" without any explanations ... as they lay on my bedside table?
Bell walked into my life almost by accident ... at one particular moment in our lives we were living in the same street ... and though we had been "neighbours" for quite a long time,we had never spoken to each other, despite the fact that she and one of my brothers were close friends ...
We soon realised that in a rather dissimilar way we were both "outcasts" ... maybe simply because we were quite "different" from most young ladies of our age ... and in a way had both disappointed our families, who had had great expectations for our lives ...
Over the years we shared endless sleepless hours (when my children were asleep) just discussing Art ... thoughts ... feelings ... and even sharing our silences ...
We soon allowed African Music and Dance into our lives ... and with those a number of very interesting musicians ... painters (Tito Paris and his siblings, André Cabaço, Nandocas, Mito ... to name just a few), who we both learned a lot with during our nights out ...
We parted in different directions ... taken by the frequent travels on both parts and my final moving out of Lisbon ... and yet whenever we met ... it was as if we had been in permanent contact with each other ...
We never judged each other's actions ... we simply knew we could count on each other (with our virtues and flaws) if ever we needed ... or didn't need ... and I believe that was our secret ... it still is ...
We have both lost important people in our lives ... we have both gone through difficult grieving processes ... we have both "experimented" what life has taken us into ... and yet thirty three years have gone by and we still discuss Art ... our thoughts ... and feelings ... and share our "silences" ...
Thanks for the nice article I just read about me. Our friendship. I was touched!
ReplyDeleteMilan Kundera, Czech writer, wrote in his book, "Identity," that friendship is essential for the proper functioning of memory and the integrity of self. Call the friends of witnesses of the past and says they are our mirror, we can look through them to us. Goes further: he says that every friendship is an alliance against adversity, alliance without which humans would be unarmed against their enemies.
I…, like everyone else, I am a person full of defects, imperfections ... and thank you for this manage to blow fine dust that sometimes taints what I am!
But undoubtedly, the friendship is even more ... is to ... is believing ... is to encourage ... is accepting ... is to defend ... is to respect ... is to forgive ... Anyone who has experienced this knows what I say, and who never lived, tends to give little importance. Because friends do not ask, do not buy nor sell it.
Throughout these years was created between us a great complicity!
It is good that is because ... well, what is lacking at times in people's relations is this complicity. And it's been 33 years.
I lost many people and many things throughout life but I got a fantastic person.
And that person is you!
BELL