Cat got on a plane to Los Angeles today. She's moving there and I'm pretty upset about that. We met at a festival in Vienna five years ago, the summer after I graduated from school. Friends of friends, sitting in the grass, and she turned to me and said, I know you, you're on livejournal as well, aren't you? I think we went for a coffee and talked about books and that was that. We've been friends ever since and have spent long afternoons drinking tea and doing nothing in particular. We didn't hang out with each other all the time, but that just made it better: Other people came and went, but Cat was always there, cigarette in hand, ready to talk about Brideshead or boys. Four months ago when I was so heartbroken I didn't know what to do with myself, we drank cocktails at noon and everything seemed more bearable, if slightly hazy.
So watching her pack her suitcase yesterday night was definitely not one of the highlights of my life. It doesn't help when people say that "there's the internet" (it's not the same!), or that "it's always good to have friends in other countries because you can visit them" (I want my friends here with me) or, worst of all, "you'll find new friends" (thanks, but no thanks). It doesn't help. My extended family is leaving and it's feels terrible, and lonely, and hopeless.