👞 Even if you think you have a lot of friends or know a lot of people, in the grand scheme of things, you really don’t get that many true friends in your life.
You just don’t.
I think we all instinctively know this, even when admitting it feels cruel.
You can be fun and make people laugh at parties or outings, but it’s not always the case that they actually know you. They know that one version of you, that one you put out there — the one you hope people like.
Then, there’s your true friends. Your old friends. Your good friends.
These are the folks who’ve known you at least half your life, seen you in all your different iterations — from the 22-year-old impatient drunk on thanksgiving in The Reef wanting something immediately, but not knowing what, to the much, much more patient new (again) father in his mid-40s. And all the other haircuts, cars, lovers, cameras and favorite bands in-between.
They’ve seen you at your worst, but also saw a glimmer of your best the whole time, even when it’s obscured by your own self-indulgent narcissism and arrogance.
And they are still there.
You can not see each other in person in two years and instantly fall back into that rhythm with each other.
You feel comfortable, at ease.
You know them.
You want the best for them.
I feel incredibly lucky every day to be alive and living the life that I do right now, in the present, but I also reflect endlessly on the past and the path to here. I think about the big landmarks, the bigger choices (bad and good), and the huge roles friends played along the way.
I love my friends so much.
And I love this man I’m feel lucky to know, and incredibly lucky to have him know me back. His talent, to me, is limitless. His curiosity beyond the pale in a way that’s inspiring to me. His peculiarity criminally underrated, weathered and refined.
He is always looking for a good tweed jacket.
I want this type for person for everyone I know — to have someone you feel lucky to know, and brings you joy just to see them.
Thank you for visiting, Tae.