When you are left stranded, alone, in a boat, sails ruined, oars tossed overboard, nothing left to row your way out of trouble, the saviour winds hardly ever come from the nearby coast, but from far away — they cross oceans and continents, mountains and plains to gently steer you back to port.
The words and thoughts of those kindred souls…balm for your heart, blessed calm after the storm.
When blood and water run thin, it’s the far-off misfits who, improbably, have your back when things are out of whack.
“Virtual friends are not real“, you say with disdain, smug in that knowledge which is as fake as the caring look on your face and your noisy show of support.
Real isn’t necessarily what you see, sometimes, real is what you feel. I feel empty when you’re in the same room as me, I feel alone and cold in your proximity.
Sometimes, my unimaginative ‘friend’, real is on the other side of the globe.
And for all those real, wonderful far-flung people, I will be forever grateful.
*For all my virtual but nonetheless real friends out there. You know who you are. Special mention to Candice whose words last week were invaluable*