Friendship is magic.
PART 1: Me
I texted you because I was feeling sorry for myself. I felt the urge to lash out. I didn’t think you would respond.
I had done something that I found deeply and incredibly cool: I was the face of a dance party. I was so proud of myself. And then: no one came.
That is a lie. Not a lie, but an exaggeration my brain was telling me as I played my tiny little violin, to make the story seem worse and make me feel more sorry for myself. It was a sold out dance party. Dove was there, as much as they could be: they were running around Chick for me, bringing my child to another obligation. The place was packed. I danced, gave away drink tickets, gave away high fives and hugs. It was a beautiful time, a natural high.
Afterwards, all I could think was that I wanted a friend who could be there for me. Or if not there, I wanted someone who would text me after: How did it go? Tell me everything.
I was counting through my close friendships from my years in my head, the ones that were no more: A, who was visibly uncomfortable with me dating women and expressing my queerness. C, who I had drifted from friendship to romance to friendship, with messiness and hurt feelings.
And you. I’ve known you now for 13 years. In January of 2024, I had noticed the limited way we interacted, how hard it was to spend time together. I asked if we could meet sometime outside of work time. It was hard for me to leave my desk at that job, remember? My boss didn’t approve.
You never texted back. I waited an entire year. I thought that was your response: that I am not worth your time.
I missed you during 2024. It was one of the hardest years of my life. I needed you, a smart woman, a professional woman, someone who I trusted.
I angry texted you in 2025, telling you that I didn’t deserve to be ghosted. Then again recently.
I didn’t expect you to respond.
PART 2: You
I wrote Part 1 because I thought this story was about me. (It’s not.)
We met for coffee.
REDACTED
My friend: I want you to be happy. You do not seem happy.
Part 3: Us
Despite my self-pity, despite my brain telling me how pathetic I am that I can throw a sold-out dance party and no one who actually knows me will attend, I know that isn’t true.
In these current days of loneliness, I am blessed to have friends.
I have Song Sparrow, my sister-in-law. She is hilarious, kind, smart, creative and fun to talk with. I feel compelled to say that she was planning on going to the dance and only didn’t go due to a very understandable reason. (Please do not read this blog post as a guilt trip, my friend.) I have Painted Bunting, my spell sister and sharer of cat photos.
I lost some meaningful friendships these past few years. I counted yours as one.
I’ve worked on making new ones: reaching out to acquaintances I wish to know better. I tried Bumble BFF.
Off the top of my head, I can think of five other amazing human beings who I would call friend, who if I was getting in my feels would have welcomed a text or call from me, letting them know how the dance party went. I can think of scores more who aren’t friends, but are friendly. That is significant.
I wanted to tell you about the reoccurring meet-ups I’ve been hosting but our conversation was already too full. I host monthly hikes; social meetups for nonbinary folks, and most delightful of all: a Coven.
My Coven meetings are hosted monthly at our house. We have some sort of wellness aspect, like a mindful nature walk or journaling exercise. We end in a potluck style dinner. It is not gendered or intrinsically based in any religious beliefs.
Here is how I framed it, when I invite people to come: I believe in the everyday magic of acting with intention. The Coven is meant to be a space to build friendships, support personal growth, and unconditionally support each other. I hope these gatherings will be events of joy and wellness. Our house and surrounding land are amazing and Dove and I want to share it with our community and use it to build community.
We had a lovely Coven meeting this past Sunday. We wove flower crowns. Dove made hamburgers using local beef, buns, and veggies as well as bourbon sours. Everyone played with our foster kittens. We laughed, we talked, we despaired together.
Here is how we become better friends with people: we spend time together. That is the magic. Friendship is accelerated and developed through shared experiences.
When I asked what you wanted in our friendship, you said that you wanted to share reality.
Dove in their flower crown
Hazel smells the fuschias.
Our four foster kittens
