I love my friends, but I love it most when the final reserve is gone. It can take years to break down those walls; those last bastions of self.
From fumbling first steps you never see the friendships that endure; if you could, I'd imagine the first meeting would be diabolically stressful.
It occurs to me that I met Angela when she was nearly the age her own daughter is now. I try to remember the small separate steps - this separated journey we have taken through our lives - to get to this point and place.
Today we fit; it hasn't always been this easy, this simple. Every year I feel more comfortable, which is silly to say as I have never been uncomfortable around her.
There were always moments, but as we sail through all this, we value each others strengths and weaknesses - this means so much more to me than a chance summer meeting could have ever done: we were both too young to appreciate this voyage ahead.
We both have our scars etched with sun, salt, and time - yet to me, they hold us true, and for that I could ask for no more.
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