tasha (tashabear) wrote,

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on friends

I made a friend here. His name is Brian, and he is an infantry officer from Plano TX. He was one of the many Unit Movement Officers (UMOs) that pass through here every week. He's smart, and funny, and well-traveled, and I truly enjoyed talking to him. He's heading home at the wee sma' hours tomorrow.

Unfortunately, making a friend such as he brought with it attendant problems. See, part of my psychological makeup is that I can fool myself into accepting almost any sort of difficulties with my living conditions. I just tell myself, "This is my world now," and move on. (There are some fairly significant downsides to this, but it comes in handy in the Army now and again.) If I don't get reminded of what life could be, I'm okay. The problem with meeting Brian is that while he's a great guy and I thoroughly enjoyed talking with him and hanging out, he reminded me of something that I sorely miss from home -- my friends. (Don't get me wrong, I'm really glad I got to know him, and I will keep in touch, but having a friend like that, with whom I could really communicate, just accentuated how lonely I've been.)

See, I've never had what I would call a lot of friends. For the longest time I could count the number of friends that I had on one hand. Now all that's changed. I have a richness of friends that I scarce dreamed of when I was growing up, and I miss each and every one of you. Thanks for being my friends.
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