Ben brought me a new CD (Actually it's an EP) that I fell in love with so instantly I haven't crashed back to earth yet. And some advice from a friend who has bounced back and forth between good friend and bitter enemy so many times I might give him a new nickname. He's long grown out of being called Tucker Max, I guess.
Sitting on the hammock while he sat on the floor throwing Jacob's guitar out of tune and being very mature and unBenlike I realized that he's changed. That he's learned from his mistakes and that he's a grownup boy now, with proper limits and a firm distinction between right and wrong, that our friendship meant more to him than a potential one-off. Unless he's biding his gentle time and hiding things well, but I would know. This new and improved Ben had a lot of very intelligent and introspective things to say to me and I listened.
Full circles have been drawn. Ones that get erased when they are complete because there's nowhere for us to go. And Ben is right as he draws a disparaging picture of himself and of the rest of the boys. We're outgrowing each other, these friendships are no longer sound and no longer holding up the way they did when we needed to lean on each other so heavily that what was once a godsend is now a curse of history. There's too much water under their Bridget now and she can't support their weight.
He is right. This almost never happens. But it still makes me so horribly sad, because instead of Jacob asking me to choose and instead of me doing what I know is right and letting them go, instead they're going to let go of me, one at a time. I know it. I can feel it and I know it's the right thing to do.