Your voice changed

I'd known you when you were near. We'd gotten close, and we'd gotten to know each other well. Perhaps, if we'd stayed that way, so much more would have come of the spark between. But you moved far away, and I farther still. Letters and messages seldom can tell a whole story. Even a phone call falls short. You see, without your voice to tell your stories, and your smile before my eyes, you are not the same. From so far away, you look very different...your voice has changed.

I've found this above monologue to be pervasive throughout many types of interpersonal relationships. We grow fond of those we meet. Eventually we move past acquaintances to friends. Often, we find that these friends can be closer still, and they come to be best friends, or significant others. We learn who these people are, in our lives. We learn their mannerisms and talking habits, to varying degrees for each level of acquaintance. Best friends will be known better than buddies. 

I wonder if I'm unique in this problem...when I am away from a friend, however well I know them, they seem to change with distance and time. When apart, conversing through text (whether letter, Facebook, or cell phones), the little verbal tics and body language that I'm used to is missing. So, as I read, the voice in their texts, that I'm reciting in my mind, does not sound like them. In fact, they seem to be completely different at times. When the gap between us is closed again, however, it's like a breath of fresh air when I hear their voices coming from them. 

I have two best friends in this world, and I have those who are part of my family. After much practice, I have learned their personalities through and through. Whether that be on Skype, Facebook, text, or in a simple letter. Still though, even with such an extensive knowledge of these people, I still cannot emulate their voice without their presence. It quite simply isn't enough...something is missing and hollow. I do not know if it is truly the lack of body language in Skype, or the fact that my flawed human mind cannot replicate the complexity of another person. Maybe it's something even deeper? Something on the level of what some may call "spirituality." 

You, as a reader, may be bothered to find that this blog update has a frustrated purpose. Meaning, there really was no purpose other than to spark thought. If, though, I were to pull something out of what I've written as a moral of the story, I'd just say that friends are best in person.