Twelve People

Wednesday 28th April 2010, 8.20pm, Nomads Skylodge Resort, Nadi - Vitu Levu

One is Welsh, one is Northern Irish, ten are English.
I went to school with seven of them, University with three of them, and picked up the other two out of sheer good fortune.
Ten are female, two are male.
One lives in Cardiff, one lives in Bristol, one lives in Leeds, three live in Canterbury, three live in Essex, three live in London.
Three are vegetarian.
Five appreciate a cigarette.
Three have their own blogs.
Amongst them there are two actors, a journalist, two teachers, a script writer, a PA and a broker.
Four have tattoos.
Five are dog people, three are cat people, four have time for neither although one of these loves guinea pigs.
Eleven are older than me, one is younger, by exactly a month.

One grew up in Hong Kong and loves Audrey Hepburn and sushi, Bob Dylan and champagne. She's going to be famous.
One is a domestic goddess with eyes bigger than Bambi's, a phobia of melted ice cream, and owns two Chanel handbags and a heart of solid gold.
One went back to Uni to study what she loves and wears vamp lipstick, a vintage dress and a dirty grin to every lecture.
One is my Valentine's Day cohort, smarter and more modest than all the men who dominate her profession, and ran the London Marathon last weekend like she was jogging in the park.
One loves superheros and comic books, taught me about wine in a box, living on cobbled streets and being true to yourself even when it's really hard to be.
One could tell you an interesting story about chilli peppers, has the messiest bedroom, the most filthy, infectious giggle and the most unwaveringly loyal heart ever.
One always knew what she wanted so went out and did it, she'll juggle career and family with deft ease, and is only an engagement ring short of the jackpot.
One has gorgeous red hair, fiery passion to match it, childlike optimism, a belief in God, and the power to make you believe in God when you witness her faith.
One is a person you'd always want at your party, the wittiest, most stylish, most eloquent, devastatingly funny, charismatic man in every room he disco dances in to.
One owns most of my childhood memories and used to be taller than everyone else, now it's just her beauty and humility that make others small in comparison.
One will make her home your home, feed you red wine and cheese and Sex and the City and Margaret Atwood, cooks a mean gnocchi and is going to travel the globe and make people the planet over beg her not to leave them.
One lives by cocktails, Marlboro Lights, hot climates and excuses to buy a new pair of shoes, she makes me laugh like no one else can, and could teach the world what it means to be a best friend through the hard times and the good.

Some have quick tempers, others mellow dispositions. Some go to the movies, some read books, some buy Vogue. Some like Electro, some sing along to Mariah Carey. Some wear leather, others wear floral. Some have married parents, others have separated families, all have vices, all have passions, all have dreams, all of them are different. Twelve wonderfully different people with one thing in common. That thing is me.

A few days ago I sent an e-mail to these twelve people because I needed them. I am fortunate enough to have many people I count as friends, but these twelve are more than that. They are my confidantes and companions, the ones who know everything, the people I would raise hell to protect, the ones that I'd gladly take bullets for. I was worried and upset about something, I yearned for the advice and support of my best friends, I told them what has been troubling me and asked simply, 'help me'. Sometimes we need to ask for help, we need to let those closest to us know that we are struggling, and in my case, my S.O.S. was swiftly answered... ask and you shall receive. I have been overwhelmed by them, as I always am. In the space of 48 hours my inbox was inundated with messages of warmth, wisdom, shared sadness, priceless advice, coping mechanisms, and unending compassion, kindness and understanding. I have laughed and cried and nodded in agreement with the receipt of each of their e-mails.

All offered completely contrasting opinions and suggestions, each of their answers reflecting their own experiences and beliefs; it would be impossible for me to put each of their plans into action because they all think and see things so divergently from one another. Do you know what though? This does not matter in the slightest. It turns out that I didn't need practical solutions or 10 point plans or structured guidelines for coping, all I needed, was to hear their voices and to know that they are there for me. It wasn't the answers that I craved, it was the sentiment behind them. What has occurred to me now is that it doesn't matter an iota how conflicting their ideas are, just as their differences in backgrounds, tastes, ambitions and character have never mattered. What matters is the one thing all these e-mails had in common, each and every last one of them was motivated out of consideration for me, out of their shared desire to help me find happiness; my best interests fixed firmly on all of their hearts.

As for the reason I initially sent out my distress signal, well this now seems far less important and troublesome than it did to me a couple of days ago, it has been clouded into insignificance by the storm of their love. What trial or tribulation can hurt me now? What can damage me when I have in written proof that twelve of the best human beings I ever met would drop everything to sit at their keyboards and help me when I called for it from half way around the world. I am not upset anymore, the panic has passed, what on earth have I got to complain about? I know how lucky I am that these people would bless me with their friendship, I also know that plenty of people in this world would be impossibly grateful for just one of these relationships. My problem has been split 13 times, and in it's separately carved fractions now feels a perfectly light load to bare.

This might just be the only way I know to get to happiness, finding people who will carry you on their shoulders over the ditches and trenches on the road towards it. Twelve people. One thing in common: I would never have made it this far down the road without them.