I’d like to say my close friends are an eclectic bunch – but of course they are not really as they are mostly white, middle aged, left-leaning graduates.
Yet when I talk about them to other people, on occasion you might think I was discussing outrageous Martians.

For a start there is quite a range of sexuality in there, with the friend i stayed with last night unashamedly picking from either to suit his mood. In his bin this morning I found an experiment which didn’t quite work along with it’s off cuttings… I did laugh.

I love him to bits because  he knows who he is and is therefore fun and relaxing to be around.

Two more boys together with the aforementioned Mr Greedy form part of this complement of three, one of whom, whilst good looking and highly solvent is also very single and the other semi detached having been in a sort of non relationship for 20 odd years now. These two are my most frustrating of friends. The ones who I fear will never grab life by the balls, one of whom, has been particularly kind to me and deserves better.

There are two divorcing women with children in there, both in the early difficult stages and a ferociously clever single woman. The others are all in marriages or relationships – one of whom after years in the wilderness, rediscovered her childhood sweetheart. She’s one of my easy, life affirming , make me happy friends along with two women in marriages they have to regularly get down and dirty in grappling and fighting for. I so admire them. They are philosophical in the knowledge that marriage isnt easy for most people, and are  prepared to be open about that.

Then there is my wise artistic friend – I can’t tell you about his set up as he will kill me and he reads this, but he has opened my mind more than anyone among my friendship group and he is always annoyingly challenging.

During my year of heart break I was like the ancient mariner needing to talk and talk about it. My poor long suffering close friends and lovely colleagues (who also feel like friends) were not the only ones who got it in the ear… I sought out people I hadn’t known so well but who were in what felt like warm comfortable coupledoms and they all embraced me and looked after me. My gay friends, my painter friend, my old neighbours from the alley I lived in which became like a commune. They all cooked for me, gave me a cuddle and let me stay over a night to keep me busy. And a friend I hardly see but who is incredibly wise, gave me telephone support.

Without fail I feel better after talking and  whilst it had to play out to it’s bitter catastrophic end, I am not sure how I would have functioned without my friends and colleagues.

When I think about them individually and collectively I am so moved by how lucky I am and I feel slightly undeserving too. I get love, laughter and an ear when I need it .


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