Funny what happens when you turn over those proverbial rocks. Some friends glitter. Some confuse you, so you polish the stone and find it’s, well, a stone.
Some amaze. More so with acquaintances that you don’t often talk to. Like DH: “Hey, where have you been? Did you run out of things to say?”
Hah. But, like Alice in Wonderland, I sometimes stay quiet and just stare, afraid of the wrong word/thought/impulse at the wrong juncture/moment/snare. Like her, I’m afraid not all things appear as they are (aka, man, he’s weird).
How do we come to be each other’s friends? Rarely a weeky goes awry when I don’t wonder about these types of things. Maybe because it’s gratifying to bring extra stuff to ‘the game,’ being a better friend than the other person would have expected.
I count myself so lucky to have seen so many friends ‘from the inside’ and be amazed and humbled by what you do. You paint pictures that dance in my head, ones that color-in the world around me….
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