Friends For Life

Last night, Scott and I celebrated our anniversary. We chose to try out a new-to-us Mexican joint in Asheville called "Papa's and Beer" - great name, even better food. While we sat on a bench outside, we discussed our time together as husband and wife and looked on at a group of girls, all dolled up and gossiping amongst themselves as they, too, waited for a table.

At that moment, I mentioned that when I see girls like that, all fancy shoes and purses out for dinner and drinks together, it makes me feel a twinge of sadness that I don't have my good girlfriends here in North Carolina. I sort of feel a bit left out.

After I assured Scott that, yes, I do indeed appreciate doing things with him just as much, we began a discussion about our new lives here. It only took a few moments before I re-evaluated my initial statement and decided that I would much rather spend time alone than with some flighty friends I only partly enjoy.

In my younger days, I would take any opportunity to party and hang out, even with less-than-loyal buds who, quite frankly, were back-stabbers and sabatours. (A fact I seemed to repeatedly learn too little, too late.) Now, though my best girlfriends are miles away in both distance and, at times, lifestyles, I know I am far richer indeed.

I don't really need a Tuesday night out to know they are a phone call away if I ever truly needed them. I am certain they feel the same way about me. Sure, it would be grand to see one another more often, to prolong the laughter and relish longer in our bond.

The way I see it now, it's more valuable to have those kindred friends close to my heart, rather than "frenemies" close to my home. I would never trade my present for my past, no matter the temporary highs I used to get from the hectic pace of social reckless abandon.

Those several times a year when I am blessed to share a cocktail and a smile with a good, old friend, my heart fills with the kind of joy that can't be brought with come-and-go drinking buddies. My soul giggles for weeks afterward.

And as for my husband? He really is a captive audience for those fancy shoes and purses. So, for what more could I ever hope?!