WRITING FRIENDSHIPS

AND HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE

The book cover of Elizabeth Day’s book Friendaholic: Confessions of a Friendship Addict (a book that could have been written just for me)

WRITING FRIENDSHIPS

AND HOW PRECIOUS THEY ARE

They say when you write a book, you never know the impact it will have on people who you will never meet.

So it was when I discovered the book: Friendaholic: Confessions of a Friendship Addict, by Elizabeth Day.

It seemed like it was the book for me, for my present circumstances. I was reminded of the poem by Sean Thomas Doughtery, called “Why Bother”.

It goes like this:

“Why bother?

Because right now, there is

someone out there with

a wound the exact shape

of your words.”

Beautiful, isn't it?

I haven't had the best year for friendships, in person or in writing. Last year, I offended one of my oldest friends, who lives in Canada. She and I had been emailing 5 days a week since Covid started.

At the beginning of the pandemic, we both decided, at more or less the same time, that seeing as our lives were in real danger, maybe it was best we get in daily contact. There had been a very long gap of no communication whatsoever between us, due to a misunderstanding of many years standing.

Be that as it may, off we went, renewing our friendship of 42 years, and each doing our best to ignore the 6 year gap that had kept us apart.

I did miss her, although with her being in Canada and me in the UK, we were not going to be seeing each other face-to-face.

All went well, I thought. Five days a week we would hook up, tell each other the latest, and then for the weekend, no email, as she wanted to keep the weekends computer-free. I would have been happier with 7 days a week, but it was not a deal breaker.

Then in December last year, for some reason, something I wrote offended her deeply. She said she would have to take time to consider what to say about the dreadful thing I said. What that was, I have no idea.

I apologized, without knowing what I was apologizing for. I waited to hear what I'd done wrong.

Silence.

I still have no idea, as nothing has come back to me. Apparently, apology not accepted. Whatever I'd done wrong, it still hangs in the ether.

It was incredibly hurtful for me. I waited and waited and waited for her reply. I looked for her email in January, February, then on to April, May, ending up where we are now in September. Still nothing. No explanation. What was it that I said? To this day, I still don't know.

But I do know this: this friendship is dead. I don't have the emotional bandwidth to put up with these long silences. I wish it wasn't so, but there it is. I have to protect myself from this type of temper tantrum, the stone wall, the silent treatment.

You can't have an argument with someone who will not engage. You cannot apologize and be forgiven. And although the door is closed, I still feel remnants of wishful thinking that it could be patched up.

Then, this week, when I read the book Friendaholic, things began to make some sort of sense. Things change. Friendships survive, and don't survive. There are so many reasons, it's impossible to guess. This book would have been a good read, even without my needing to hear her experiences of friendship and how they have impacted her life.

In her book, Elizabeth Day quotes Aristotle, as saying, “Anyone who is to be happy, then, must have excellent friends.”

I couldn't agree more.

Which brings me to my writing friends. I am thinking of two, in particular, who I have never met face-to-face.

They comment on my Substack posts, and in the case of Syd, she buoys me up when I want to cash in my chips and walk away from the writing game altogether. She assures me that I do have something to say, and the world needs to hear it. (Ah, bless her! Everyone should have a Syd in their life.)

I only know According to Mimi through her Substack posts, but she too always says the right thing. She encourages, whereas many people who write posts, give their encouragement with a pitch to take their online course, which will increase your Substack subscribers like flowers after a good rain. “Increase your newsletter by 30%”, etc. It will be so enriching, you really shouldn't miss this deal. Sometimes the deal is time sensitive, just to push you along to the “buy now” button.

Well, I suppose that's what keeps Substack afloat, and if people are making money from their posts, and their online courses, more power to them. I'm not ready for that. I'm not sure I have anything that people would want to pay money for, so at the moment, with my subscription being completely free, it allows me to ask people to join. If I had a paid subscription, I would be asking them to part with money.

Uncomfortable or what?

But back to friendship: how valuable is it to have a writing buddy? Someone who also bashes their head against the proverbial wall when the words jam up in your head? Or when the world ignores you? Or misunderstands you?

One word: priceless. So, I say thanks Syd. And thanks According to Mimi. You don't know how valuable you are.

Until next Monday,

Rose