A Well Brewed Friendship is a Strong One
Today I floated above my own life for a moment and realised the reality. Rarely have I made friends during a time of my life, but instead upon leaving a time of my life. I think of my two best Uni friends and I have no memory of them whatsoever in my first two years (I was so shy I must have walked around cowering under a cardboard box). In my final year I came out of my shell and started to actually converse with people and express my unique style and actually be noticed. Still though, I remember these friends most notably during revision for exams, Summer Ball and our night out after dissertation hand in; yet since, I consider them amongst my best friends.
The reason this occurred to me today was that I met a friend for coffee; a friend whom I knew from my 4 months temping at record store, HMV, 3 years ago. In all honesty, when I left and I received her Friend Request pop up on Facebook, I almost declined as we had exchanged so few words and most were merely 'Hi'. I was depressed my whole time there, I chatted freely to strangers all day yet almost purposely avoided talking to anyone who may ask about me or my life or want to get to know me in any way. At the time I had little identity, little to say about myself, Uni was over yet I hadn't found my way in the world, I didn't know who I was, where I was or where I was aiming for.
But this friend... well I did accept her request. Then last year it seemed we both developed a fondness for all things Italian: mine was a result of being in love, and hers was a result of being out of love. We began exchanging 'Likes', then comments, then recommendations before it turned to conversation and arrangement of coffee and a catch-up.
It seems it takes me 3-years to brew a friendship. Three-years to find the time when myself and the other person possess parallel interests and the right frame of mind and that all essential realisation of the common ground we tread. I guess a well-brewed friendship is a strong one.
Polka Panic
Today I floated above my own life for a moment and realised the reality. Rarely have I made friends during a time of my life, but instead upon leaving a time of my life. I think of my two best Uni friends and I have no memory of them whatsoever in my first two years (I was so shy I must have walked around cowering under a cardboard box). In my final year I came out of my shell and started to actually converse with people and express my unique style and actually be noticed. Still though, I remember these friends most notably during revision for exams, Summer Ball and our night out after dissertation hand in; yet since, I consider them amongst my best friends.
The reason this occurred to me today was that I met a friend for coffee; a friend whom I knew from my 4 months temping at record store, HMV, 3 years ago. In all honesty, when I left and I received her Friend Request pop up on Facebook, I almost declined as we had exchanged so few words and most were merely 'Hi'. I was depressed my whole time there, I chatted freely to strangers all day yet almost purposely avoided talking to anyone who may ask about me or my life or want to get to know me in any way. At the time I had little identity, little to say about myself, Uni was over yet I hadn't found my way in the world, I didn't know who I was, where I was or where I was aiming for.
But this friend... well I did accept her request. Then last year it seemed we both developed a fondness for all things Italian: mine was a result of being in love, and hers was a result of being out of love. We began exchanging 'Likes', then comments, then recommendations before it turned to conversation and arrangement of coffee and a catch-up.
It seems it takes me 3-years to brew a friendship. Three-years to find the time when myself and the other person possess parallel interests and the right frame of mind and that all essential realisation of the common ground we tread. I guess a well-brewed friendship is a strong one.
Polka Panic