By the Parramatta River

When we were children, we used to think that when we were grown-up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability… To be alive is to be vulnerable.
Madeleine L’Engle

I had a text  from B yesterday, I had not heard from him in a month or two and had thought perhaps that he had gone back to his previous life. It said, "how are you, catch up?". I called him and I said, "what about this afternoon?". When he lived with his partner, he was in the same suburb as me but we rarely would bump into one another. I picked him up and drove him back to his mum’s place, where he is staying now.

This is the place that we grew up, along the river, that trails from Sydney Harbour out to Parramatta. I sat by the river bank and he stood, smoking, just as we had 20 years ago, down by where my brother used to go and fish.  As kids B and I had skinny dipped in the river and had swam across to the other side to find out that the river was full of sharks. It is now a metaphor for the innocent love we had back then, it was  inquisitive and fearless. Little did we know that life would be full of sharks, I would run from them and he towards them.

We do not necessarily improve with age: for better or worse, we become more like ourselves.
Peter Hall

He told me he was feeling much better. He had been walking and doing weights, he looked a little bigger. He had shorn his long hair short but still had hair on his face that reminded me of those cartoon villains. His eyes were alive and blue, like I remember they used to be. We talked for hours about how we came to be where we are now. He told me more of his story and I listened and asked him questions, wanting to fill in the gaps of the past two decades. I told him I felt strange there. I had not been down by this place since my brother’s death 13 years ago, I had sat there many a night after drinking myself into oblivion. As we were talking, I felt Marty was there with us.

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person; having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but to pour them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, knowing that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then, with a breath of kindness, blow the rest away.
George Eliot

He told me stories of the mad as fuck junkies he knew during that period. He lent no glamour to the squalor of these stories but I was riveted. Although in many ways we are poles apart, I still think in some ways we do truly understand one another and for me, that is the most important thing in a friendship, partnership or relationship, that you "get" that person and they in turn, "get you" no matter what tangents your stories and ideas go on. I was so happy to know that he was feeling some small measure of hope and health. In fact, I was in complete shock.

Only the fool hopes to repeat an experience; the wise man knows that every experience is to be viewed as a blessing. Whatever we try to deny or reject is precisely what we have need of; it is our very need which often paralyzes us, prevents us from welcoming a (good or bad) experience.
Henry Miller.

I asked him if he would ever start taking heroin, or any other drug again.  He said emphatically no, that it had been unbearable for him, that he could never return to feeling that broken again. He is going to see a shrink next month. I told him that on my way to pick him up, I wondered whether  he had listened to music during that period of his life. He said no, that he felt that he had missed out on not only knowing about music but about alot of normal things people our age would know about, things as simple as walking into a bank.

I am going to make him some mix CD’s or maybe even get him an ipod to listen to music on. I think it will be good replenishment for him. I encouraged him to write his story. Perhaps he will share them with me one day.

I don’t know what to make from this friendship reflowered but I am grateful for it.

I am about to go to sleep with my two little sisters, it will be all elbows and knees throughout the night. We will wake up and wake up the rest of the family to open presents under the tree after a big breakfast. Strangely, this Christmas, although I have felt lonely at moments, has been surprisingly lacking in tension. Fingers crossed it stays that way.

P.S. I downloaded some programs this week, which seem to be blocking my ability to leave people notes, please do not think I am intentionally  neglecting you… I will try and rectify this week and catch up with my faves.