I got up today, with a feeling. A feeling of something missing. A quick look at the work diary, the chores list, the important date list — everything was in order. There was nothing a miss.
I sat in my Beetle on my way to work. There it was again. The feeling. I knew I had to stop looking in my files to see what was missing. It was not something, it was someone. A friend! Screamed the left part of my brain. The right side haughtily dismissed it, “You have so many of them already! Don’t have time to spend with the ones you have, and you’re trying to miss the ones you don’t have!”
I nodded and agreed with the right part of the brain. I scrolled my contact list and snuggled in my leather seat, feeling secure. There were enough and more. Office friends, gym friends, crossword friends, friends of friends, party friends, Facebook friends... phew! The list was endless. In fact, I had friends for every mood and want. What more did I need?
At night, I caught up with some friends for dinner. Pretty much the same conversation we had last week and the week before that. Just then I heard a loud scream. A fully grown man was chasing another one, dodging and weaving through the diners, laughing till tears rolled down. Something familiar tugging my heart. I knew that instant, there was another category of friend I missed, ‘the being mad friend’. The feeling was back. This time even stronger.
My super sleuth Nosy Nathan came behind me quietly, “What’s bothering you Confuscious?” I laughed with a sense of irony. “I am surrounded by friends. I have chosen most of them. Some share common interests, some share problems, some share dreams, and some goals, but I have lost the one I had nothing in common with, but felt most comfortable around.” Nosy just looked at me and said, “What’re you waiting for? Call him!”
As he moved away the right side screamed, “He’ll never answer. Don’t listen to him, you’ll end up embarrassed.”
I took out my phone hesitantly and punched the familiar number. The phone rang. And rang. Just as I was about to disconnect, the familiar voice answered — and all he said was, “F@$%”, and then we laughed.