J. has returned from Russia, and already this morning, at 6.30 AM, the phone rang: the pain of separation was too great to bear, L. and J. had to be together in the same room, to tell tales of World of Warcraft and to enjoy each other’s company. J. was bleary eyed from the red eye flight he had been on, but nevertheless there was a tremendous sense of joy in this. I can see in J. the intensity with which he throws himself into these brief periods of being with his friends. This sort of thing happened during my own childhood too. It’s interesting to compare L.’s laid back ease and trust in his friendships with J.’s frantic attempt at wringing the maximum from every moment. My decision to have a very stable environment for our family was a very conscious one. I know how déraciné I still feel, still am: the result of moving around from country to country. The result of schools (British Schools Abroad) where people come and go, and where you’re lucky if there are fleeting moments of very intense contact. Once someone moves away, as happens, invariably, the connection is instantly broken, then and there. In my adult life, this bothered me for a long while. Once I discussed this with someone who has the same background. Yes, we both recognized how difficult it was for us to maintain friendships across distance, how we tended to compartmentalize friendships and lock the memory of friendships away when they had become untenable. I guess things are better now, with virtual contact replacing the need for physical proximity. J. and L. maintain much of their friendship in WoW, which enables them to play together, and to hang out, virtually. But of course, nothing replaces playing WoW side by side, at the same table.