Yay, yay – half term! and Steve’s got some time off. It’s a holiday feeling all round.

We’re going to spend a few days staying with my friend as well in Lunnon town. We can just about afford the train fares – thank you railcard – and plan to just do all the free stuff, of which there’s plenty and walk a lot to spare the oystercards.

Am also really looking forward to catching up with J. We’ve known each other a long time and when asked what her first memories are of me she accuses me of stealing her and her brothers train set. This is a slur, it was all my mums doing. She took it to concoct some kind of money spinning game for playgroup fund-raising fayres. I remember eating a biscuit under the table with J & K lifting some sort of tablecloth in turns to glare at me. From this inauspicious start things could only look up. Our friendship has survived a few arid periods.

I remember sitting on my bed after the disintegration of a pretty miserable relationship writing an olive branch of a letter that she had every right to simply ignore as I had spent the last few years ignoring her.

I’m sorry, I was a twat, I miss you, I have no friends left now I need them – I’ve driven them all away. I’m going to change myself and build a new life and I’d really like to take the few good things from my past with me. Please write back…

and she did… and so we go on. I appreciate that she knows most of my failings and still sees value in me. Usually I find that kind of thing hard to say but as she is far more dynamic, discerning and firm than me I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t tolerate me just out of politeness so I feel confident she loves me – as I love her. Our relationship has a comfortableness that bridges our very different day-to-day existences and flaky letter writing.

In my thirties I have learnt the hard way that thing you see a lot on fridge magnets. Friends are for life – love and lust will come and go but you must invest in your friends – they are worth the attention. Brotherly, spiritual, physical – or of the mind, heart or body. I guess they’re all important and it doesn’t matter where they come from. All though I have to admit I’m struggling with the bridges..and the ferries and stuff. It’s called objectphilia..must stop getting google-sidetracked.

Todays BT – the packet of tealights that look like loveheart sweets Steve produces from his coat pocket for me when he gets home. He has presents for the kids too. We all dance around like fools. We’re excited about our week of holiday ahead. He laughs, properly. I miss this. I appreciate it very much this afternoon.

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