Living in an expat bubble is difficult enough as you try to rise above people's petty grievances, perceived hurts and playground fallouts (aka bitchfests) , but add politics to the mix, namely Brexit, and friendships become toxic.
Today we went to lunch with some previously dear friends. I say previously because thanks to Brexit and our life-changing difference of opinion, it seems to have created an invisible wall between us and our once happy-go-lucky banter became forced and uneasy. Lunch, although delicious, was soured by the underlying current each waiting for the other to bring to a head the whole Brexit situation, yet both parties aware if you want a scab to heal you don't pick it.
But equally if the scab has turned septic you need to release the puss festering below and address the poison within. Neither party had the courage. Maybe in years to come there will be 'I told you so' neutral vote and each will bury their pride.
I feel saddened by this but it comes as no surprise such is the gravity and uncertainty behind the 'Leave' vote. Raises glass to past friendships as we move on to new.