Wrapped up together, in the corner booth.

Because of my one drink minimum, I sat for an hour last night sipping on melted ice water with a hint of vodka.
If I walked to the bar to get a coke, I’d just cave and order another, so I just kept making that annoying slurping noise through the straw, before finally deciding it was time to go home.

I had gone to meet up with Josh, but he’d disappeared at some point, so I set out to find him. He was hiding in the corner booth, a full beer sitting on the table next to his hat, looking miserable.

I did the only thing I could think of, and curled in next to him, with my head on his shoulder, and my hand on his leg. Not asking for words, but just being there for him. I adopted this trick with Sam, the art of Just Being There. Not saying anything, not asking for anything. Just sitting quietly, with my hand on his leg and my head on his shoulder. I don’t fix Sam’s problems, that isn’t my job. I just listen while he works it out. When he starts talking, I stay silent. When he trails off, I lead him with his own words, rephrased as a question.

It isn’t for me, it’s for him. Because that’s what love is, isn’t it? That’s what friends do. They don’t try to work you out like a puzzle, they don’t try to push their agenda. They’re just there. Listening.

Josh looked like that was exactly what he needed, and eventually, he started talking.

“I began job searching again. Slowly. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of being broke. I’ve tried to make the best of unemployment. I can’t do it anymore.”
“What can’t you do?”
“This. Being here every night. Not traveling. Not doing what I want. It was nice for awhile, but there’s more to life. I remember there used to be more to life.”

He trailed off, and pushed the glass across the table with his finger, playing with my hair. I needed to leave for home, I still had a twenty minute walk ahead of me.

“It will get better, you know. It’ll work out.”
“I know.”

I left him, and the whole walk home I was thinking:
“There is more to life than this. But I’m not ready.”

Being ready means leaving Sam. It means walking away from my friends, who are basically family. It means saying ‘thanks, but I’m going out to find better now.”
I’m not ready to upheave my life again- but if I could bring all my friends with me, if we could all succeed instead of just one of us…
I’d change everything in a heartbeat.