Week 8— Like Children Playing
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Each week on this blog I will release a new thing, a creation such as music, poems, photography, etc. This week I release a collection of digital photos that I took while walking through the streets of Mt Cook, Wellington.
Next week is my birthday and I’ve been trying to decide what restaurant I want to have dinner at on the night of. I ran across a recommendation online for one that I have been to before, but I probably won’t go to this one. It’s mention sparks a collection of memories of the day that I last went to the Spruce Goose for breakfast.
What seemed at the time to be an innocuous breakfast with a friend now seems like such a pivotal turning point for us. For me.
He ordered muesli and I remember thinking it was a funny sort of boring item to order at a restaurant, and wondered why he wouldn’t get something special. Although I probably ordered eggs of some sort and have less of a memory of my own boring meal choice, it’s just that we used to tease each other so I remember wanting to tease him about it. Just two friends talking about life, though we kept in constant contact with each other, so it was really more a gesture of kindness and connection to catch up and ask how the other person was doing than it was a real need to catch up.
We saw someone that we both knew at the restaurant and he really did not want to talk to that man, so I offered to stand in front of him to obscure his view, which was a joke. But we managed to pay and he got away unnoticed. He paid for my breakfast.
The day went on and we were working on music together and spent the entire rest of the day hashing out the details. I remember the other man who was there to help us with the music, a third wheel in our day, he really enjoyed hanging out with us because he said that we had good energy. It felt like our friendship was very strong that day and I guess the memory sticks out because someone else was there to prove it to me. Not like all the other times we hung out, where no one was there to see. No proof that I didn’t misinterpret a friendship, but more on that later.
We even went on a drive. We drove around the suburb of Miramar to test out the new electric car that the other man, the third wheel, had bought. We only went to the supermarket but it was fun little adventure because it was not common that we hung out in a normal setting, so it was a good experience to do normal friend things. Eating breakfasts, going for drives and visiting supermarkets. My friend tried to playfully trip me in the aisles of the supermarket several times. I know he was flirting with me, but we were both taken and we knew we were just friends and it was harmless and more like the way children play with each other.
That is the memory. Everything was positive and we were indeed real friends. So why then did the divide come between us? Why did I receive that call from you almost 8 months later saying that you can’t talk to me anymore, and why did your girlfriend tell me that you told her that you wanted to stop being friends with me but felt trapped? The way you acted on the phone did make it seem like what she said had some weight to it, though I still run across memories like this one, where everything was normal and you were my friend. In fact you were such a good friend that I believe we would have fought people for each other, but I guess you found the one person you wouldn’t fight off of me. I’m sad to say that I stuck up for you when I spoke to her, I fought for you while you were letting me fall.
It’s just so strange looking back at the memories, because I wonder about these small acts of tripping me in the store… Were they so weighted in your heart and carried by more than I could have realised? Is that why we fell apart? Were you not simply playing with me like children play in a supermarket?
All music, lyrics, art, photography, drawings and blog content written by Nicole Andrews unless otherwise specified. Please see her website to listen to or buy her studio produced songs: https://www.nicoleandrewsmusic.com/
