Meet my friend N from Suriname. This woman is my angel. She can see right through me. To think that we don’t really share anything in common except the hallway where we first (randomly) met. I don’t know how to explain this, but, like what she said tonight, explaining things sometimes doesn’t really help.
N is the first person I ever felt at home with since the day I set foot on this land. In her I found a gift of friendship, love, and sisterhood. Such is rare, and is worth treasuring for a lifetime.
Tonight she said many things to me that I have told myself a long time ago. Yet somehow, she made me listen to her. She was the conscience that I could not silence. Through her “whipping,” I was somehow saved.
Alain de Botton said today in one of his tweets that “adult ills” can sometimes be explained by the absence of friends “who live within 2-minutes radius,” whom we can “gossip and weep” with.
N is that kind of friend. But she is more than that. And that's why I think de Botton missed out on something.
It’s not just the presence of a sounding board or an entertainer that keeps us adults sane. It is the presence of friends who serve as our mirrors, who make us see ourselves in such a way that we can’t go on lying to that reflection before us; and, also, in a way that we would really learn to love and appreciate what we see.
Thank God for friends like N. Thank you N.
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