I Had A Friend

by Kimbra

I had a friend who knew how to make me feel invincible. He listened like I had the last words to say on earth. Like he’d been waiting all his life to hear them. That kind of patient, unwavering, robust attention. The kind that thrives in silence and politely declines flimsy affirmations or civil niceties, the kind that speaks when they have something to say. I had a friend who made me feel ageless.

He walked on his tiptoes, an old childish habit, a little scared to take up the space I knew was his to take. Maybe he didn’t want to disrupt my thoughts, he looked to me like a saint, satisfied to simply be in my presence. His presence was like a river, moving and slow. Dynamic and thick with being. He wanted for nothing. But he needed something I lacked. That sacred self assurance.

I had a friend who became a lover, the very night we met. He locked his keys inside his apartment, like a good line out of every boy-meets-girl story. But he wasn’t so predictable. He was a vision to me. That greedy smile exploding across his face in soft, bold swoops. I longed for the secret he held. Could he be my anchor? Make that paralyzing sadness and indecision melt like rubber in the road, stopping me from that eventual thud. I was always playing with fire and he was always putting it out.

I had a friend who didn’t need me like I did. He showed me a map of myself, curving and open. Revealing distant lands I longed for but had seemed too far from reach. I had a friend who never bored of me, he walked on his tiptoes, when no one could see. I think he was hoping to surprise me, treading so lightly that the world never saw him coming.

Watercolour by me

Till next time