So last Tuesday a friend of mine, Margaret, went east to Maine, where she’s spent some time previously. Margie is one of these people who is always peripheral to my life – never in my ‘core’ circle of friends, or whatever, but someone who I care for greatly. We had been pretty good friends back in 1996 – we had a class together and hit it off really well. However, due to each of our respective partners at the time (though for different reasons), our relationship strained. Margie had a bout with an eating disorder that was simply heart-wrenching to watch and has come out a vastly different person. If she wasn’t who she is, I’d probably term her flaky: she’s very artsy, kinda new age-y, etc. However, there is a certain – umm – earnestness about Margie that makes you realise that everything she does is carefully considered before being acted upon. She’s truly a marvellous person. So, while I don’t see her, or even talk to her terribly often (I think we got together twice this last stint of hers in Vancouver), I always feel saddened, feel like I’m losing a friend when she goes away (Oddly enough, I don’t think I’ve ever exchanged email with Margie. And really, I feel like I’d be missing out on so much in an epistolary conversation with her). So Margie, I hope you have a great time in Maine, and know that I miss you out here.

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