That’s Going in the Quote Book: #18

The newest in an ongoing series of Quotes I’ve collected. To see previous posts in the series, click here.

I am one of those incredibly fortunate individuals who found their bestest friend early in life. Her name is Kerry, and we met in our first year of high school. Neither of us remembers how that happened. All I know is that one day there was no Kerry in my life, and the next there was All Kerry, All The Time. And my life has been ever the better for it.

I’m not sure those around us feel the same, though.

See, Kerry and I giggle. Like, a lot. And while whenever we get together we’re having the time of our lives, I expect we’re actually fucking exhausting to be around.

Ron’s told me that when the three of us get together, he pretty much sets himself on auto-pilot, because Kerry and I have our own language, which contains very few words, and he mostly has no idea what we’re going on about. Which seems very cool … except that we both think we’re talking normally and don’t know how to harness this efficient method of communication other than between the two of us.

Anyway, the hardest part for me of moving to Halifax was leaving Kerry behind. We were going from living a few hundred to nearly two thousand kilometres apart, and seeing each other would mean either a much more significant drive time, or a step up to air travel.

And over the 20 years since then, neither of us has stopped trying – good-naturedly, of course, but always with an undertone of utter seriousness – to convince the other one to move closer.

The best opportunity either of us has had at achieving this end came not too long after my ex-husband and I split. (And if you want an opinion on how challenging it is to be in a relationship with someone involved in a friendship like Kerry’s and mine, I suspect my ex has, or at least had all those years ago, a thing or two to share.) When our imminent divorce was announced, I expect there was a little more hope than usual on Kerry’s part that her arguments might work.

But then, in the span of a few weeks, my life went from mostly miserable to pretty okay, and I knew her hopes were gone when she made this glorious last-ditch attempt:

Except for the car, the job, the house, and the boyfriend, Toronto would be perfect for you.

Kerry’s dedication to an ideal is one of my favourite things about her. And I’m certain that one day, our plan to become official Crazy Cat Lady roommates will come to be. But we may have to compromise on the location. Perhaps a point midway between our current home cities would work.

How does Rivière-du-Loup sound?