Don’t even know where to begin.
Friendship. That tricky beast.
So long as people are at arms length and have no influence in a persons life, things run along swimmingly.
More like friendly acquaintances.
It gets more tricky fun when people start to shape your world along with you.
Shared experiences become your own history book, your own reference book.
The lines of where you end and they begin become blurry.
Loyalty. Dedication. Laughter. Love. Evolution. Devotion. Celebration.
Then one gets mardy. Do you know that word? It’s a good word.
When the one gets mardy, the others look at each other with a “huh? was that just me? did I cause that?” but no, it wasn’t them, it was Mrs Mardy in a moody.
Then the moody mardy episode turns to a year long way of being and the others are all still concerned. They refer to their friendship history book. Wonder if there’s anything they can do to help. Offer genuine help. Then they get resigned to the fact that Mardy now has new friends she can be a buddy with who don’t know that she is being a cow to the older group. They’ve yet to meet Moody Mardy.
You tell yourself that mardiness is born of fear, anger, upset, unfulfilled expectations, jealousy.
You try again to hash it out to little avail, while adding more love to the mix.
And you know what, you wish them well and you make sure you keep a plate in the cupboard for if they ever sort themselves out in the future, so that you know they’ll be welcome at your table if they ever want or need to.