Rebuilding Burned Bridges

Last night I asked an old friend to come back into my life. Things didn't end well with this friend over three years ago, but I'd like to believe we have matured a bit and are capable of at least being aware of each other's lives, if not interacting every day. I've missed this person terribly. I think about them several times a week at least, just wondering how they are and if there's any hope of salvaging what was once a true friendship and even partnership.

Is that possible? At the ripe-old age of 29, is it conceivable that two people who haven't known each other since before entering the adult world can have a second chance? Can mend the wounds from harsh words and painful actions? Can find the joy and lightness and easiness that was once shared between two friends?

I've done all I know how to do. I wait with bated breath for the reply, but still have peace of mind that I've done my part. I'll let you know how it goes.

Please Let There Be A Next Time

Somehow I need to figure out a regular blogging schedule. I suppose that finding time to write is a little like finding time to eat breakfast. Except that I can't grab my computer and write on the way to work like I can a can of "delicious" SlimFast.

Anywho, tonight I went to dinner with a friend and couldn't stop smiling the whole way home. Yes, this friend happens to be a guy and I happen to rather enjoy spending time with him. Unfortunately, I didn't realize this until just after he moved 4 states and 12 hours away, which makes spending time with him very difficult. Thank goodness for holidays and that his family is all still here, so he visits occassionally.

The last time he came home, everyone wanted to see him and the most I got was a group lunch where he sat barely within shouting distance, but this time I got him all to myself over a wonderful pasta dinner. Just like when I visited him up north, we talked for hours. HOURS! I don't do that! I am incapable of carrying on conversation with anyone for that long, being an introvert and living in my own world more often than not. But this particular friend? Well, he seems to bring out something different in me and I like it. I like having rambling, meandering conversations that look like the branches of an old oak tree or a river that just keeps on going and never stops. I think we could have talked all night, at least I know I could have and I'd like to think he felt the same way. Even as I drove home I kept thinking of things I meant to ask him about but will have to save until we talk again. Sadly he had to make it an early night so that he can run a race tomorrow morning, but I have hope that there will be a "next time."

It's an odd feeling not to be obsessing over someone, but rather just enjoying their company and never wanting the conversation to end. To not want to rush things or get ahead of myself, but instead let things marinate and see where they go, if they go anywhere at all. To end the night with a hug and a "see you in a few days" and get in the car with a contented sigh and dreamy smile.

An oatmeal day

Today was an oatmeal day. The weather is getting cooler here in my neck of the woods and this morning just called for a warm bowl of oatmeal. Trader Joe's organic oatmeal with blueberries did the trick. Then go figure, I went to my parents for dinner and we had oatmeal. Of course, this was REAL oatmeal, made in a pot, with maple syrup and butter. Because they can take the time to do that and eat it all. I can't imagine the mess I'd make trying to cook that and the week's worth of oatmeal I'd be left with.

Dear Cereal readers, I have a confession to make. Cereal Girl is a little drunk tonight. Not wasted-and- making-a-fool-of-herself drunk, just drank-several-glasses-of-wine-and-feeling-sleepy drunk. The kind of drunk that comes from sitting with friends in a warm house, talking about life and being silly, drinking cheap wine, eating cheese and fruit and watching football. The kind of drunk that makes you want to curl up in a ball at the end of the couch with a contented sigh and never leave, because you never want that moment to end. Single friends, married friends, friends in serious relationships - all of that nonsense is put aside for a few hours and we're just us. Just friends. Neighbors. A community. Moments like those are happening more frequently in my life lately. It's a good thing . . . and yet it leaves me wanting so much more.