In an age where people seem just as isolated as we are “connected”, friends meander through our lives, touch us in ways we remember and sometimes forget. Our dearest friends are often close and few, a voice or a word away. Recently, time spent with a fairly new friend only in town for a day, felt familiar, like our letters and poems woven back and forth for the past few months.
In person, she was a confident smile, a paced breath, a pen pal without paper or screen. We were present that day in our summer dresses, over courses of fresh greens, paella, blush and fizz. In conversation we found ourselves 10 years before children, before heartbreak, healing, before meeting only a year or so ago. And until we pick up the tail of our last laugh or cry, I will remember random utterings and red light glow, ripe petals and Barcelona in August.