Life in My Years

O Patience(!), too often you elude my desperate grasps as I plummet into the pit of passion! You linger above the chaos, waiting for me to come into my better mind. Quietly observing as I let unbridled emotion throw me from cliff to crevasse, you conduct yourself in the only manner you know how: patiently. When I finally emerge– weary, bruised, foolish–I stagger over to you and meet your disappointment with compunction and regret. Never before have your virtues and worth been clearer to me than at this moment and I promise you–I promise you that I will see you next time; and not only that, I will stop where I’m going. Say hello even if I don’t feel like it. Grab some shawarmas maybe. Chit chat about life for the good part of half an hour, even if it’s a chore and you’re a bit a bore sometimes. Okay a lot of the times.

We’ll carry on this polite exchange a few more times, and then several more times after that until one day, finally, something wonderful happens. We become friends. Now when I see you, I want to say hello. “Hey dawwg”  I’ll say, and slap you one on the flip side. Instead of Mamoun‘s, we go to buffets together now. We can do that now, because we have the conversation to fill the hours and hours of slowly stuffing our faces with sashimi and King Crab legs. But of course, you always ends up outeating me because you pace yourself so much better.

You’re no longer a bore to me. When I feel agitated, I drive on over to your apartment and listen to your stories and feel soothed by your calmness. The world becomes a bigger place when I listen to you, and kinder.

Occasionally, we’ll have arguments. Who doesn’t? I’ll storm out and try to forget about you, but I won’t be able to get you out of my head. Life at home isn’t the same, other friendships aren’t the same, buffets aren’t the same, and even Mamoun’s doesn’t satisfy like before. So I come back to you and being the wonderful friend you are, we make up and I value you more than ever. We’ll continue our friendship into my years until I’m aged and wrinkled, and I’ll be a better person for it. And what’s more, I’ll have made another friend because of you: Time.