Thursday, 26 March 2009

My Friend

My friend and I go back a long, long way.
As far as my memory reaches, back into early childhood where things tend to get a bit blurred and only single objects, sounds, sights or scents stand out clearly against the backdrop of the first few years, we've always been friends.

While we grew up, naturally the pattern of our relationship underwent changes; some of them subtle, some less so, but our friendship never suffered.

With my friend, I have been able to open many doors to the inner realm of imagination and delight.
On the very rare occasion where the delight turns into fear, I never blame him, and those events never leave a scar on our friendship.
My friend puts me at ease when I am troubled, restores my energy when I am exhausted and offers a welcome refuge from the outside world when I feel I can not face it.

Some years ago, a change of circumstances, of work place, of where I live.

True friendship does not suffer from such changes; it may shift and be altered, but does not break or peter out.
So, of course, my friend and I remained as close as before.
Or so I thought.

Until I found myself spending less time with him.
The hours we spent together became more irregular, often interrupted.
Various factors that neither of us can control prevent us from being as close as we want to.
I miss him when he is not around.
My longing for him and the comfort he offers is intense, and when we do manage to be together, my appreciation for him is greater than before, when I sometimes took him for granted.

Tonight, I hope to be with him again, with all the self-abandonment of the past.
My friend!
Hopefully, he will never forsake me.
I, for sure, will always love him.

His name is Sleep.


  1. I am reading this three years after you wrote it. But several days after you pointed me in its direction (the delay is a longish story ie I was sidetracked and have just remembered it) I wondered if you still feel the same. Before, that is, I got to the last line. I feet this is so much like the relationship between Friend Who Knows Too Much and me. I feel exceptionally emotional. Oh dear.

    1. GB, I am glad that, after three years, finally someone reads some of my old blog entries - so far, it seems they were mainly written for myself (which is true).
      Feeling exceptionally emotional is good, isn't it? Unless you are, like me, getting a phonecall in from a customer just as you were having a little cry.

    2. Oh, and I still feel the same about my friend Sleep - and we have managed to re-establish the old closeness.

  2. I found my way here in roundabout ways, the link from GB's post first only leading me back to my own dashboard ;) But that of course turned into a challenge to try and find it anyway... Glad I did or I would have missed your twist at the end!

    1. Thank you, DawnTreader - I hope you were not disappointed in what you found after you took so much trouble to get here!

    2. Sorry, with all the distractions I forgot to say that I did enjoy your twist and the friend turning out to be Sleep. That's a friend I'm very much dependent on too...

    3. Thank you! Yes, that is one friend we dearly miss when he becomes, for some reason or other, elusive...

  3. Well, I came by way of GB also. I've seen your comments before, but the lead-in he had made me want to know the end. So here I am. So Sleep is...really sleep? Or...?

    1. Hello and welcome to my blog! Thank you for stopping by.
      In the case of this story, yes, sleep is really sleep.
      When it comes to my dolphin story ("To Hug a Dolpin"), well, that can be interpreted in many ways...

  4. GB just directed his readers to this post. It's great!

    1. Thank you, Jenny! GB's directing his readers to my post even gained me a new follower!

  5. What? You mean Wayne Sleep - the English dancer?