A Friend Reminded Me

Can a woman proclaim to have an amigo she has never met? A warm, moustached man with a likely southern drawl who sends her Christmas DVDs every year despite her absence?

I went for a long run Sunday afternoon to clear my mind. I have been heavily burdened in the last few months by the weight of my inability to say 'no.' I work too hard. I determined a 5 month engagement was a reasonable amount of time to plan a cross-coastal wedding. I travel virtually every weekend to see friends and family dispersed across the Americas, leaving scarcely enough time to nurture the friendships in my own backyard. I rest my weary head on my pillow each evening waiting for the fast-forwarding of my life to wane.

The path I chose that particular afternoon took me through a Spanish neighbourhood of such amicable proportions that the gregariousness made me whimper with regret. Extended families lingered peacefully on every stoop, basking in the calm of the perfect sunshine. The children smiled coyly and the women waved their jovial 'holas' as I skittered past. That was what a Sunday evening should be; an icy lemonade at dusk in the company of mi familia. Somehow I have lost sight of that in the whirlwind of filler that is my current state of being.

I wondered then if I shouldn't consider writing again. Whether talented or not, it's the hobby I adore more than any other. And it was a masked amigo, one who has supported my creativity since the dawn, who coincidentally reminded me it was time for my return... So yes, though I have not [yet] shaken his hand in person, I will call this gentleman my friend simply because I am grateful for his support.