For the first time since before July 4th, I had a long phone conversation with my best friend. I've been so mad at him, so worried about him, and I have missed him so! He's an insulin-dependent diabetic who travels a lot and works very hard, so his health is always on my mind: is he taking care of himself, eating regularly and getting exercise? Plus he's simply a very good person who I respect on a number of levels, so I not only appreciate his insights on my world, I love that he thinks I'm great. I've been surrounded by so much sadness myself lately, and I feel stronger and more capable when I know he's in my corner.
He's having serious marital problems for the first time in years. As Cupcake and Sparky Duck so wisely advised me, he had to be by himself for a while. This perplexed me, because as a rule, he's very open with me about his problems ("whiny" would not be entirely inaccurate).
But this was different. Because I can be rather ... um … "take charge," and because these problems are so personal and the stakes are so high (both he and his wife are children of divorce who vowed never to do that to their own girls), he didn't know how to explain it, or how I'd react. (I think he was afraid I'd get on the phone and give the Mrs. "what for.")
I blurted that I really don't want to know the "gory details. Shit!" I mean, what do I know about maintaining a long-term relationship? Need to find a new messenger bag or pedicurist? Come to me. Want career advice? Here I am. Can't choose between Expedia and Orbitz? Move over and let me take over your keyboard. Arguing with your mom? I can fix that. Snap, nothing to it! Stuff like this I can, will and MUST handle for those I love. (Just try and stop me.) But why come to me for romantic advice? Are Jennifer Lopez, Cher and Liz Taylor all unavailable?
Then I felt bad about blurting. What if in the future he wants to vent to me about her? I don't want to be insensitive … By now he was laughing. He enjoyed listening to me try to wriggle out of "I don't want to know the gory details! Shit!" And then I started laughing, because his laughter was affectionate and it's nice to be known so well.
He said he hadn't really understood how tough the last month and a half has been for me -- he hadn't had the time nor the emotional resources to really pay attention -- but he'll be more available for me.
"We'll work this out together," he said -- referring to our individual struggles and the impact they have on our friendship.
Together. I like the sound of that.
