I have this Voicemail, I listen to it from time to time. It’s from a friend of mine, whom I loved so dearly. She is an amazing human, and I miss her in my life, if only for that./
So yeah, I have a friend for whom I love, not that way but the way you love a friend. Someone who from time to time has been so important in your life, they were “there”.
What is “there”? They are the first person you call or text whenever anything in your life happens, regardless of being in a relationship or not. They are your bestie, above everyone else.
So kastle, what’s Voicemail all about then? Well, ya see… I have this voicemail from a friend of mine and it’s so special and amazing, but irrelevant. Kinda.
You see, there was this Matturday night, a couple of years back. I don’t recall what my buddy and I had been out doing, but I had this voicemail when I got home.
We both read the transcript and it made no sense.
Hey tomorrow. I guess I’ve had enough to drink to make this phone call. I hope you’re doing okay. religious wanted to call and say I’m thinking about you. and I’m sorry. I’m just I’m just sorry. so Forget it. I’m not going to talk to me then. But I guess I just see how I just wanted you to know that. And I’m leaving for you, you know. whatever happens and your life going forward and I really appreciate his have any like the planets under the time that he did. yeah, okay, so bye.
That’s the Google Voice transcript, BTW. I didn’t bother to correct any spelling or grammar mistakes.
So we listened to the recording, and I was blown away. That voicemail, for which I still do listen, was from a friend of mine who was so important to me, they were my FLA.
What’s FLA? First, and Last, and Always. The first person I messaged in the morning, the last person I spoke to at night, The person I always wanted in my life.
Not in a sexual manner, please let us be clear. This person, they were an amazingly close friend until things drifted apart.
Here’s this: My friend, SHE was the one whom I would talk to ON AND ON AND ON about Sapphire. She knew who Sapphire was (contextually). She knew how enthralled I was.
In fact, my friend was the first person I messaged in the Why of Sapphire, as I stood there stunned at what had happened. Having been witness to, and a participant of, something amazing.
My friend, was there for me, supportive and loving, as a friend. AS A FRIEND. Read that shit. AS A FRIEND. No hanky panky. Just two humans who were friends.
And I loved that about her. But that voicemail, that’s a phone call from the dead.
Thanks, Course of Empire. Not that the artist, Thomas Cole, wasn’t brilliant.
I remember my buddy and me listening to the voicemail a few times and then lightbulb, oh shit, I know who that was. And so we called my friend. And then…
Well, I’m not too sure. She was moderately inebriated, and then again, so was I. That’s why my buddy was driving that night. She and I spoke for a minute or two, and I pawned her off to him.
Mind you, they both knew who each other were. They had one another’s numbers in the event of anything happening to me. That’s how important she was in my life. And how important he is in my life.
As I handed him the phone, I knew that I wasn’t exactly doing myself a favor, given the two had never spoken before. I paced around the downstairs, listening to the two of them.
I wasn’t pacing because I was worried or in fear. No, I was concerned about what they’d do to one another in the name of our friendship, and my buddy is a samurai with drunk people.
Yup, he’s done it to me a time or two. Well, maybe less drunk and more other natural substances. I swear pixie sticks are a bitch! (disclaimer, that’s a joke, get over yourself).
Yes, I’m saying sugar is a super addictive drug, but alas that’s not what this shit is about. REALLY.
After 30+ minutes on the phone, my buddy hands the phone back to me as he had concluded the call. The sweat on my brow, having heard the whole thing but not interjected myself.
Well, I mean not much. There were times I had to give context, but other than that I just paced around, like, well, anyone would do given the circumstances and context.
Afterward, I fell onto the couch and I sighed in relief that this event in my life, one that I had never expected while I was alive, was over.
Yes, I said that. And yes, that’s why my friends have each other’s numbers and are aware of that, with requested permissions and whatnot. Think about that concept for a minute.
My buddy and I chuckled a little on the conversation, more about how I was reacting to it and less about how she was. She’s one of the smartest people I know, then again as is he.
My friends, like yours, come in different shapes and sizes, contexts, and life experiences. But they all have one thing in common. You. Yup, you.
I can say this… I miss my friend as she was an amazing part of my life. She was a good human, and her husband was a good human. Never once did I suggest otherwise, as to do so would make me a piece of shit.
Your job as a friend is to support and assist your friends as best you can. It’s not to poison them, try to twist and bend them to your will. What trash is that? I mean, really now???
I’m neither a saint nor a sinner. I’m neither the best nor least worst. In fact, I’m pretty marginally not unacceptable as a friend. And I demand the same from mine.
If I’m not doing a good job, I expect them to give me a ration of shit. And because they are important to me, I will listen and not just dismiss their feelings.
Friends come and go in your life, how hard you fight to keep them is the measurement of their worth to you. But, don’t mistake fight for disruption. That’s shitty.
