Old friends

Sometimes I get really lonesome for people I used to be good friends with, but for whatever reason have since drifted from. And naturally, in true Bekah form, I decide that it’s my fault that we’re not as close anymore, and that I’m a bad friend, and that if I had nurtured the friendship more, fed and watered it and other plant metaphors, we’d still be great friends. Or: is it just the nature of friendships in a large place / industry where you meet new people constantly – or the nature of friendship itself – that some stick / some don’t? Or that they require water? Is that water secretly wine? Or secrets?

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