THAT'S JUST DRUNK TALK! Sweeeet beautiful drunk talk

I must admit that I am not a drinker. Overall, I say "yay for me." However i do feel I'm missing something. Well, a few things, but one is plaguing me the most at the moment. There is a sense of community that surrounds drinking. Although this generally seems to dissipate with age as people realize they don't need to lose their mind so often. But that's not what's getting me right now. Not having too much, really any, experience in the dealings of tipsy-hood and drunkenness, I don't know when to believe what people are saying or how much to believe what they're saying. I've got a really good friend. I've known her for a long time and she kept me afloat in especially rough times of life. However with both of our schedules we don't get to talk much. Lives in different parts of the country make finding a time a bit difficult, as well as various family responsibilitites. So we have chatted online a few times in the past months and it's comforting to have a girl to talk to, especially in these times in my life. I miss my friends and locally there's just not much, so having this attachment means even more. SO when she says "we're going to talk more," after her three glasses of wine at home, how am I supposed to take that. The optimistic part of me takes it at face value. Or should I replace optimistic with foolish. The more realistic part of me skulks away and knows it wil never happen. Having your good friends, even at a distance is a wonderful thing, not know when they will be there for you isn't. The part of me wearing his big boy pants knows that I shouldn't rely on such a connection to aid in my mental health... but... I got nothin. So I sit and ponder the intricacies of drunk talk, sweeeet beautiful drunk talk, and wonder when I'll really talk to them again.

Here's an apt quote from Shawshank Redemption... "Sometimes it makes me sad, though, [them] being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

Any ideas? Eh, I'll probably end up coming back and deleting the post anyway. I hate to read myself whining.