Pardon the hiatus.
I was feeling myself not terribly inspired to write much, and then I broke my leg. Playing roller derby. So at least I was having fun.
Because I was more or less indisposed from the time of the inciting incident (a reasonably non-spectacular plough stop over a small lip in the track surface followed by a relatively over-spectacular display of screaming and backwardsy-upside-downy foot in the air because I didn't know what to do with it) to when I got home from surgery two days later, information about my status was transmitted over Facebook by my boyfriend. Not because he felt the need to announce to the world that I was broken, but because he knew that a lot of people were wondering how I was doing and he felt it was the best way to reach the greatest number of people.
And lots of people reached back. The outpouring of support and get-well-wishes was, at times, very overwhelming. But soon after that, I started counting the people that I hadn't been in touch with in some time who were expressing their concern, and I realized that I'm a colossal failure at being a long-distance friend.
I've come to think of myself as a kind of Madonna (the Like a Virgin kind, not the virgin kind) when it comes to relocating and reinventing myself. I've taken a number of risks that have necessitated restarting my life from scratch a few times and I think I've been pretty successful. I haven't been very successful at taking any of my previous lives with me to the next, though there are a few exceptions.
I blame two things. First of all, I must admit that reinvention is kind of time-consuming. To be really successful at it, you have to join things and go out with people and hang out with your new friends. And that's all really awesome. But it leaves less time than it should for checking in with old friends and asking how they're doing. Secondly, I don't flatter myself to think that my old friends are completely aimless without me. They've done things with their lives. They've joined things and gone out with people and are hanging out with new friends. And that's really awesome. And I don't want to impose on that, since, you know...I'm the one who left for different (but admittedly equally green) pastures.
But this is another time that I feel I must be brave. I suppose if my old friends don't want to talk to me anymore, they'll let me know. And maybe they're feeling the same way - I'm making a new life and they shouldn't get in the way of that. That being said, I've certainly welcomed everyone reaching out to me with open arms. Why wouldn't they welcome me reaching out?
So, like all conclusions, I'm ending with a resolution. I have friends. Many friends. Some are new. Some are old. Some are friends that are dangerously close to becoming people who used to be my friends, not because of a falling out, but because of my own complacency. So I'm going to try to keep in better touch, because you never know when you need a friend.
