And Then You

I was an inverted human bell curve the last week my Kanukukers were here. No, that's not an "I've gained the weight of a potato-bred sheep" joke, it's a math metaphor. They're rare. Soak it in.

High: Emily and Eli ditched their plans to spend their final Saturday going ice skating to come along with me instead and meet up with Adam in City Centre.

They didn't know him, and they could have no reason for wanting to meet him, aside from doing so because he is one of my best friends.

We three took the bus and strolled about for a while looking for him, finding on our way an extremely sketchy alley leading to one of my favourite Belfast book stores Chapman & Keats.

We found him at the loopdeydoop (his description) statue and, from there, proceeded to West for lunch.

West is a sandwich shop, so here mentioned because it possessed a very rare quality for a sandwich shop: They ran out of bread. ...what? They literally closed the shop up for the day after we walked in because of this. Only in Belfast...

Then home to play some games and music and back out that evening for Maggie Mays (a local spot for students, complete with delicious milk shakes).

*Local note: Here, a milk shake is exactly what it sounds like. Milk, shaken with a flavour of your choice. Not ice cream.

Maggie Mays was probably the most fun part, as we went about the circle asking each other questions such as, "What colour would you want a cow?" and "If you could name a street, what would it be?"

I met Em and Eli one month ago. One month friends don't meet and spend the entire day with home friends, at least not in my experience. And if they do, they're awkward about it in one way or another.

They made it feel so natural and easy, much like they made my own transition. They made an effort to like my friend just because they like me. It was meaningful and yet unconsciously so, I'm sure, to them.

The low followed, maybe because of the deepening in my sentiment and attachment to them through this. It didn't seem fair, getting them then having to let them go again. And, true to form, I started to shove them out, glibly making comments about them leaving forever and giving them "the timeline."

The timeline is a principle I developed last year to try to make my friend Heather cry. I'm not evil, she just cries unnaturally easily and it's funny. It was a bonding thing.

1. Separation.
2. A few skype dates, multiple texts, and a phone call on the occasion.
3. Turns to Facebook messages.
4. Turns to the occasional Facebook message.
5. Turns to writing on their Facebook wall on their birthday.
6. Turns to seeing their name pop up on their birthday, not recognizing their name (maybe they've gotten married), and deleting their friendship.

It's actually a pretty accurate timeline, but it also isn't fair, as pointed out by Eli.

I'd spent the evening in my room by myself and had also decided not to attend the next day's trip to Whitehead Lighthouse, and we got in a fight about it because I was being selfish in distancing myself to deaden the separation pain.

I ended up going, and it was an absolute blast of a day.

The wind was shove-you-into-the-rocks-below insane, so Emily and I tried to fly, naturally. The walk around by the lighthouse was rocky and salty with ocean spray with caves along the path where pirates used to smuggle salt and butter, and a trip to Carrickfergus Castle followed, where the three of us played a friendly game of Dragons and Ladders.

*Local note: Salt used to be placed in the centre of formal rooms at parties as a symbol of wealth. The more salt you had, the more soldiers you would be able to feed during the winter because salt preserves meat. No salt, no wealth, no protection. Thus, pirates.

That night, we walked all around our neighbourhood collecting ingredients then going back home and baking S'Mores cookies and Nutella Peanut Butter cookies. YUM.

I would have missed all of that had he not caught me enacting my normal "kill the relationship before it kills you" plan. I guess I can be pretty cynical (I prefer the term realistic) about that kind of stuff.

But then I think about Kira and Tyler.

We three met the same day seven years ago in June for two weeks of the Nehemiah program at NewLifeRanch.

And now, seven years later, Kira and I are still best friends, and Tyler and Kira are getting married...in June. :)

There's a solid chance Eli, Em, and I could all fall apart soon, but it's not only not fair for me to act out of that mentality, it's not true.

Sometimes, realism just isn't realistic. Humans happen. Freak accident friendship happens. There isn't an airtight timeline. Man, thank God for that. And thank God for people put in my life to remind me of that.