My path through life had become a winding trail, hacked through a tattered jungle of regret and resentment without any real sense of where it might lead. Every morning,I dragged myself from sleep hoping that this might be the day I broke through the thorny undergrowth to find myself standing on the edge of a lush meadow. Every morning I opened my eyes to the same wall of impenetrable thorns, my mouth full of the sour taste of defeat. I was, I suppose, as close to rock bottom as I could get.
And then, one day I caught sight of her across a crowded room, and it was as though a message flashed between us. I think, looking back, that it was meant to happen. She was just the person I needed to find at that stage of my journey, and I spent more and more time talking to her, sometimes hoping for answers but usually settling for sympathy. I could tell, when our eyes met, that she knew exactly what I was going through, really understood the depth of my pain and the hopelessness with which I looked to the future.
'Do you know what really scares me?' I said one day. 'Here I am, fighting my way through this jungle of problems and betrayals and disappointments, just trying to get to the other side - and sometimes I think that when I get there, I shall find a desert waiting for me....'
She smiled, nodding because there was no need for words; she was just there, on the same wavelength, whenever I needed a sympathetic ear.. I felt slightly cheered, not just because of her company but because I thought I'd summed it up rather well - she always appreciated a clever turn of phrase, a neat little metaphor to capture the essence of misery.
I don't know what I'd have done without her, over the next few months. I found myself living for the time we spent together, when I could just talk and analyse, going over and over the wrongs done to me and the damage they'd done, those others who lived so carelessly from day to day and never stopped to consider the souls they were treading underfoot.
I can't quite remember when it began to change. It must have been over weeks - months, even. I was talking to her one day, just coming out with the same depressing drivel, and suddenly I saw boredom in her eyes. She'd had enough. She was tired of my hopelessness, tired of the way I was weaving my tapestry of despair, seeking out the dark and dismal threads of disappointment. I was hurt, at first - devastated, even. There I was, still on my progress through the valley of shadows, and suddenly I was alone. The whirling depression which had become a comfortable downward spiral was no more. Someone had plugged the plughole, just before I could disappear down it.
I have a new best friend, now. I didn't see her across a crowded room - I sat in front of the mirror and looked straight into her eyes.
'Well, well,' I said, that morning when the sunlight suddenly streamed through the tangled weeds and I heard birdsong. And I knew that the part of me which had been dragging along beside me, a willing co-conspirator in my despair, had finally been ousted by this new spirit of hope. My ex-best friend vanished then, and I hope I never see her again.
I pushed through the last bit of the jungle and came to my meadow. A skylark was rising, its song as pure and clean as my dreams had once been. I'm on my way, now, back on track, sure of my footing. My new best friend walks beside me, positive and encouraging, and every time I look into the mirror I see her there where my sad ex-friend used to be.
Copyright © 2008 Rob Richardson. All Rights Reserved.