What is it Like?

What is it like to have friends? A funny thought to think, but one I have to ask. To never go anywhere but to other places just to be alone. To sit and have pointless hours of long conversation. To walk together through the woods or work in the garden. To make no sense just sitting in the shade. 

I think I had friends once, now I have obligations and appointments. Things discussed, then forgotten. Lists of chores, TV schedules, and things to fix. Books never read, just time spent alone… a book club of one. I tell the world a lot of things, while keeping volumes hidden to myself. Baggage that needs unloading, not parceled out in sentences in the correct tense. A shoulder to lean on. Those anyone remember? 
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I think I remember, but it wasn’t on a video chat. It was a bike ride or a few steps away. It was wrapped in a towel, sitting on lawn furniture, or parked in a car out by the water. It was stumbling with words and emotions. It was fear, it was madness, it was joy. It was something I can barely remember. Just as letters appear on this screen and quickly fade away.