Peter Pan and I

We were friends in the quiet places. On starlit sidewalks and on swing sets, beneath the halo of streetlights and beside the shushing of the ocean. We were midnight friends, two am, four am, friends. Anytime and on either side of the ocean, friends.

We were friends in the loud, unbearable way. The way reserved for siblings or those you've allowed to become close as such. Boisterous and obnoxious, silly and endearing. Tears, lice, twenty-seven hour train rides, trans-Atlantic plane rides, professions of love, or not. We were our best and worst with each other, never once fearing that the other would leave.

He was married on Sunday. And it was beautiful.

Excuses, Excuses

Not that there's really any excuse, nor should there be, for not blogging - but I wanted to assure you that my absence has simply been for want of time. You could say we've been busy.

Like, a wedding weekend extravaganza type busy.

The Boss served bravely as Ring Bearer, though there was no pillow and he walked the aisle holding our hands, so I suppose he could more accurately be called "The Cute Bearer" - a role in which he thrived.

The weekend itself was a stream of commotion and car rides and late nights that turned into early mornings, they type of late where you're buzzing from being with friends whom you rarely see, and it becomes hard to force yourself to do the responsible things. To stop playing games. Stop talking. To simply go to bed, as you should.

But without the anchor of children for two whole nights, responsibility seemed distant and enjoying the company of friends prevailed.

And the company of best friends, most of all.