So I went out for cocktails after work last night, the “date” that I wrote about a few weeks ago (for those interested, I had a raspberry-lemon martini and a mojito, and we split an appetizer platter).
The conversation never lulled, which can be killer when you’re auditioning for a friendship. Before I knew it, we’d been there more than two hours. We talked about our families and where we grew up and how we met our spouses and our weddings. We each shared some intensely personal and painful information.
I think it will be a good friendship.
It’s been so long since I made a “friend” that wasn’t pushed on me because she was the girlfriend or spouse of one of my husband’s friends, I’m not sure what the feeling should be like. I remember in college, the last time I met a woman I truly connected with, the feeling was intense, almost like with a boyfriend.
Heather and I did everything together – studied, drank on Thursday nights, double-dated on the weekends, attended hockey parties, went on road trips… She helped me through a terrible time, when I finally split with an abusive boyfriend. When I discovered she was sleeping with him after I left for grad school, I was heartbroken. I tried mightily to forgive her, but I didn’t have it in me. (There were other factors in the demise of the relationship, but that was the proverbial straw.)
Since then, I’ve had a hard time with the friend business. I’ve never felt that “soul connection” like what I had with Heather. But maybe, like with a good marriage, a good friendship isn’t all about the butterflies and the angels singing. Maybe you need to build a good friendship, maybe it takes time.
As wives and mothers, maybe my friend and I won’t be dancing on the bar at the White Horse Inn or playing Cups with the hockey team. But I think we can still have fun. I think we can still connect. It will just be different. And different can be better.