Fatale Abstraction

About 20 month s ago, I had a lively discussion with a fascinating woman via the comments section of someone else’s blog. One day, I opened my email to find she had written me, and the conversation carried on over the space of a handful of months. Turns out we have a lot in common, and she has a lively, zestful outlook which greatly compliments my own approach to life. After 6 months or so, she suggested we talk on the phone.

OMG! Talk on the phone? To a person from the internet? Uh, I don’t know about this, but I suppose it would be rude to refuse.

So, in a very kindly and understanding way, she listened bemusedly as I prattled without drawing breath for about an hour on the phone one Saturday in March last year. A few more phone calls later, I’d calmed down enough that I let her get a word in edgewise, and it turned out I was right to like her so much.

Okay. I confess I’m a spaz and it takes a special person to let me settle down and be at peace—that almost never happens-- and she had the patience to do so. About a month later, we met at a restaurant and this was another hurdle. Turns out my trepidation was misplaced, as she was warm, lovely and very welcoming. I loved her immediately, and it turns out she's the big sister I never knew I needed.

Since that time, she’s introduced me to a whole bunch of wonderful people, and has even been at my side as I’ve hatched into a wobbly baby chick out at the gun range. It’s a wonderful thing going shooting with a girlfriend.

Yes, I know this is meant to be about telling you how much I love Holly and what a special friend she is, when in fact I’m just removing all doubt that I’m a perennially juvenile sort and perhaps a little unusual, but I think it says a lot that Holly would have the patience and kindness to see through all the bullcrap and love me as a friend in spite of my special needs.

Holly’s birthday is today, and I hope it’s wonderful.

I love you, Hols. You’re fabulous. Thank you for being such a dear friend.