By Andrew Pacutho:
The seconds pile up into minutes. Minutes into hours. Hours into days. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. Months into years. The minutes really have piled up.
I have known you many years and yet none have been more vivid than the last three years, one of which was spent pulling leaves of sunflowers saying, “She loves me, she loves me not”.
But here we are. We have crossed the bridge that marked the furthest boundaries of our former lives and still the road ahead is longer than the one behind. I have wondered what the future holds and like I told you in my last letter, I have sought out the wisdom of men and women on how to proceed.
It seems many have gone before us, but each must walk their own road and path. But here is what one elder lady friend told me when I bumped into her this week: she said, “don't stop being her friend”.
I was once told that as a man, we sometimes need to share how we feel with the object of our feeling, not to ask them to date us, but to let them know where we stand. One of my many mentors, an old wise man that I hold dear says that many times, when we meet someone, we cannot say that we shall marry them for we don't know where out paths shall lead and if, as we grow, we do not grow apart. He said, instead, be committed friends. I think some call it going steady but I don't think that is what he meant.
Friends for me have always stood in that place that no man can explain except those who have had close friends. Friends are the middle ground between a sovereign God and Family. Their place is sacred and mysterious, a bond that only each individual friend can understand. Strange to note that the best of friends sometimes are the two most unlike persons you would ever meet. They are as similar in personality and character as chalk is from cheese but still these friendships persist.
Don't stop being her friend.
Those words echo in my head. I wonder what they mean. One would think that being a wife or husband is an elevation, a promotion to something more, but like I said, friendship is strange and mysterious. ‘I’ is a level ground where all men and women, in in this case, a soon to be husband and his soon to be wife stand equal.
There is little judgement or condemnation. Differences are not cast aside, but stand aside as the main stay, the friendship, blossoms and blooms. I cannot begin to tell you how deeply those words ring in my head. I hope to have the greatest friendship a man has ever known. More on this another day. Until then, my love, I continue to count down to the start of this new old friendship.
P.S. I Love You.
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