It’s a strange a sad feeling to talk on the phone to someone you know so well but you can’t be how you were. It’s constantly re-navigating. Each step, each word has to be considered, because now we are not “us”. Everything is different. And today, speaking about the dog and her current issues, it felt hard and complicated and strained. The ease and natural flow of a chat between friends not yet (will it ever) reached, the confident communication of those who know place with each other has gone. These phone calls are not fun.

I think of phone conversations I have with those I speak regularly. Chats that go on for ages about everything and nothing. Moaning about family members that gets all those grumps off your chest. There are belly laughs about ridiculous things that remind me I love laughing and don’t do enough of it at the moment. Bouncing ideas around and having my opinions tested by those who love and know me well. I’d be lost without this link.

I spend much of my working day alone, my partner in paint left a few years ago to more out of the big city to a quieter life of the West Country. So the phone, and especially my essential headphones, are often my social media of choice. I am well skilled in painting a ceiling at the same time as catching up on the latest gossip, I can paper and partake of a good grumble better than anyone.

So I am happy on the phone. It’s not difficult to be myself, because who else am I going to be?

But I don’t know how to be with him. It still feels so sad, being awkward while trying not to be awkward. The effort of being nice is not so much of an effort, but the need to be so in itself is just a painful reminder that, once upon a time, he was one of my go-to people I’d chat to in my day.

Just another lesson to learn.