Monday, June 8, 2015

The Cher to My Madonna

I hate the term “BFF.” As a grown woman, I don’t understand the need to use acronyms in place of actual words. I do, however, appreciate the sentiment.

Instead of three letters, I use five: Talin.

Boston (4/2015)

She is my other half, my partner in crime, my soul sister.

She’s the one who can read my thoughts from the look on my face. Who can see me from across the room and understand exactly what I need. Who can finish my sentence before the words are out of my mouth.

We’ve been through a lot together over the last 23 years – death, divorce, breakups, cross-country moves, quiet spells, weddings and babies.

When I was 22 years old, my mother died. No one knew what to say, but Talin had the right words – words I still remember that comfort me to this day.

There was a time when I struggled with the people around me. I withdrew, but she came after me. When others turned their backs, she saw through my wall and sought me out.

And even though we went through a time of heartache – a time when we didn’t speak – that didn’t stop me from reaching out when I knew she was hurting. True friends put their crap aside when there’s a deeper need.

We have had so much fun together. Rooming together at youth conventions, tearing apart Boston at night, Hard Rock Café and Venus de Milo, Harvard Square coffee nights, hosting parties, going shopping, and talking talking talking.

We’ve always had our unique styles – individual tastes that remain our own. We were never those friends who looked and dressed exactly alike, and I love her even more for that. She’s the one who yelled at me when I wanted to wear beaded pants on my wedding day (“The man wears the pants, Silva!”) and who forced me to try on the wedding gown that I eventually wore on my special day (“Just put it ON!”). She’s the only one who can talk to me that way and get away with it, because she’s the only one I trust.

She’s intelligent, stylish, nurturing, classy, selfless, and caring. She has a huge and giving heart. She makes the effort. I don’t have to try with her – I can just be.

And she’s 3,000 miles away from me.

You’ll always be the Cher to my Madonna. I love you, Talin with a T.

Boxford, MA (2/1992)
Fresno (6/1992)
Los Angeles (7/1992)

Boston (5/1997)
Boston (6/2009)
Boston (6/2009)
Boston (6/2009)
Boston (11/2000)
Boston (11/2000)
Boston (11/2001)
Boston (11/2001)
Boston (10/2011)
Boston (2/2014)
OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.

No comments:

Post a Comment