My roommate and I just finished cleaning up after five of our friends. We had a dinner party with some of 'the old crew.' You know, the people who you don't have to explain your jokes to, in front of whom you're comfortable getting seconds, and you can argue about which band is the best and not really mind who wins the debate.
Relationships are almost all blessings, whether they last a season out of convenience, or are cemented through shared experiences. But there's something special about the ones that, like a favorite pair of slippers, just get more comfortable with age. The people who you can talk to once every few months without tripping over insecurities or misunderstandings.
I'm sure part of the beauty is the rarity of these relationships. It is somewhat uncommon to reach a point where you care about a person enough to stay in touch when it's no longer easy and neither feels forgotten in the meantime. It's amazing now, and I imagine it will be downright splendid in a couple dozen years when we can look back further than a decade and see how lives have bloomed like wildflowers and where their seeds have been carried by the wind.
Thank you, God, for the lives you've braided with my own. Thank you for the handful I can count on no matter what, for the pile I can enjoy a lovely chat with, and for the heaps I have yet to encounter. Thank you for the comfy friends I have, and for those I will meet further down the road.