I met up with an old friend today – someone I’ve not seen for a long time. I’ve known him for fifteen years and he’s been a good mate ever since. He moved over to Canada with his bride a while ago and has spawned a couple of kids along the way. It was great to see him – albeit briefly – and catch up on the family gossip… even if some of that didn’t make for easy listening.
I went to live with my girlfriend in Northern Ireland in 2003. I didn’t drive at the time, and he was the one who got me there… with all my worldly possessions in the back of a hired van that was falling apart faster than we were travelling. We had to exchange it for something a little more road-worthy only an hour into the trip. Anyway, eventually we arrived and I waved him goodbye the next morning. Although we have had many other more experiences typical of two guys in their twenties, I think sometimes a friendship is defined by one particular event, and I guess that one’s ours.
It’s a pity the world is (still) such a large place. Canada may as well be the moon.
Have a safe trip back, buddy.
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