Today's love letter goes to my friend Clara. I like to think of my dearest friends as strands on a summer camp lanyard. My sister used to make those. She made one that was ten colors wide in rainbow order, twisting around itself. I coveted that lanyard SO BAD. I WANTED THAT AMAZING TECHNICOLOR CHUNK OF PLASTIC STRING!
Alas, she did not give it to me. Now, I thank her, for preventing me from looking like the world's youngest lesbian. No doubt I would have gotten it stuck in my bowl cut or accidentally stepped on it with the Timberlands I wore throughout first and second grade.
So I see my friends as those colors, getting braided in and out...sometimes on the outside, sometimes tightly wound in. For example, George was one of my best friends as we inched towards graduation, then we disappeared, then we had one isolated and wonderful Chicago night full of sneaking into hotel saunas and vegan quesidillas a couple years ago. Last December for about two weeks we were suddenly obsessed with each other, but then school started, and then it's just sort of been a while. I'm not sad. It all comes back.
ANYWAY, wow, I'm getting long-winded. So recently, Clara has woven back into my life. I'm not sure what causes this...besides some subconscious similarities in life positions. Or because two weeks ago I made her admit that I officially have the title "Clara's best friend from high school." The point is that lately it's not strange for me to know what she's eating today, what projects she's working on when two years ago I didn't even know where she worked. When I realize this stuff I feel infinitely surrounded by all the people I have ever known--always with me.
What I like most about rivers is you can't step in the same river twice. The water's always changing, always flowing.