100-hour play date
Two Cancer risings walk into a bar
~ft. a writing prompt at the end~
Rarely are we afforded the time to fully soak in one another’s presence without life's constant interruptions. Introductions and follow-ups are often intercepted by regular life commitments, stacked Google calendars, or simply shoddy memories. Recently, I’ve been thinking a lot about my friends, marvelling at how many of my relationships withstood the test of time (5 years) and distance (6,000 miles). The other day, a friend asked me about my experience with long-distance relationships; before I could utter ‘none’, my queer brain kicked into gear, rejecting the heteronormative notion of "relationship," and I found myself waxing poetic about my friends – the friends in London and other parts of the globe that I continued to do life with all the while living in Taipei.
Reconnecting with these friendships in person felt like diving into the ocean—refreshing, exciting and exhilarating. It's like when a beloved musician releases an "extended edition" album: all your favourite songs are still there, but with the passage of time, some things have been tweaked and what was already amazing, somehow becomes even better. These amorous bonds, they mold and adapt with the warmth of our hearts, beautifully maintaining form and strength — a true blessing.
Recently, my friend Ever flew from the Netherlands to London to stay with me for about five days, and we had what I can only describe as a "100-hour play date." Remember those childhood sleepovers with cousins where you'd wake up and get straight to playing? Well, this was a slightly more grown-up version of that—just slightly. Those five days marked the longest stretch of consecutive one-on-one time we’d ever shared. Honestly, I can't think of many friends I've been able to spend such extended periods with as an adult – it was a blessing.
The 100-hour play date somehow managed to keep me out of my own head and completely present in the world around us. As we moved in tandem, an alternative perspective on absolutely everything was refreshing and grounding; we found it in discussions about so-called 'overrated bagels' and the superiority of the Rich Tea biscuit, among many other topics. When joking about what they'd tell their friends they did while in London, Ever said, "We talked,"—an answer saturated in both truth and comedy.
On day 5, around hour number 97, we acknowledged that we were both "talkers", lovers of endless conversation—a realisation that dawned on us as we reflected on how much ground we'd covered throughout Ever's trip. It’s a treat being able to talk non-stop for 100 hours, covering ground that we had only skimmed over in the years that we've known each other. It’s a treat to spend 100 hours pensively tracing threads of conversation back to their source of origin because, like children, our words were intercepted by giggles and questions and we frequently wound up miles away from the topic at hand.
Like children, we revisited Bridge to Terabithia and half-watched Matilda, having many second thoughts about aspects of a film that had touched both of our young hearts, later wincing at scenes that were more severe than our memories had led us to believe. Like children, we abandoned bedtime, heads often meeting pillows long after midnight – a sin later absolved by caffeine rather than candy. Like children (and true Cancer risings), we shared stories from the depths of our hearts, fostering a heightened sense of safety, proximity and understanding. My Cancer rising nature has been at an all-time high ever since.
In a slightly similar but different tune, a dear friend (one of my favourite humans) and I have instituted a monthly hang/date/us day—a 4-8 hour play date, if you will. With the terrifying pace of London life and the ease with which people can unintentionally slip between each other’s fingers, this intentional commitment has created a new avenue of joy in my life. How special it is to constantly choose one another over and over again – like I said, my Cancer rising has really been showing face as of late.
ICYMI, friendship is one of my favourite topics to write about. It's the most abundant and varied form of love in my life, and certainly not one I take for granted. Moving forward, I’ll be writing more about friendship; I want to approach this writing with a heightened degree of intention and seriousness. Let’s see if I can provide insightful reflections and meaningful perspectives on the beauty and complexity of human connection.
I want to debunk the myth about it being hard to make friends in your 20s – tip: you have to have the space. I want to share lessons from my world that I’ve gained through being immersed in the love of those around me. I will of course, on occasion, brag about my friends – they’re all so lovely, talented, hot and fun. And, I want us to interrogate whether or not we’re being good friends and if not, how to course correct.
Funnily enough, I think I’m in the process of making a new friend. We met through a friend earlier last week and have been connected via WhatsApp. I’ll take my own advice and ride the waves of this new bond with a sense of wonder and soft intention. Maybe I’ll tell her about this and be weirdly public and experimental with the documentation of how this unfolds. Idk, maybe.
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befriend yourself too, tho ~
Listen to: brain by Kara Jackson