Before I get to this Quadruple Pesto, I need to talk about a few things.
About two weeks ago, the Sunday after the bombings in Boston, I started to think about life in a whole new perspective. It’s not a perspective I might follow, just errant thoughts, pondering, and weighing options.
These thoughts led to my remembering an old friend, someone who was there for me through thick and thin for many years, as I was for her. She had some issues that were alarming at times, so much so that I found myself subtly pulling away from her bit by bit, a slow, torturous break-up. She was starting to scare me, and I told her so many times. She would just laugh wickedly.
Soon life took us in different directions, and our once solid-ice friendship thawed to a drip-drop. We spoke one more time about 4 years ago, catching up and such. I could tell she wanted to renew our friendship, but I had my own problems and didn’t think I could handle hers at the same time.