Being invited over or out feels good–regardless whether I can go or not. It’s being invited anyway because she wants me there.
Insisting on taking a selfie with me because she doesn’t have enough pictures of us together feels good. Even if I look ragged and tired from shopping all day.
Asking about my family and life feels good–even if there is not much to report.
Telling me about her life and thoughts and feelings feels good–even if I don’t have advice. It’s good to feel trusted. And needed.
Being reassured that this is just a season of my life–the one with tiny kids, making it hard to get away spontaneously–and that she will be there when I can get away more feels good.
Sipping champagne and laughing about the past and giggling about the present and wondering about the future feels good because it’s in those seemingly mediocre moments that life is most joyous.
Laughter with a friend is like a warm blanket over cold feet; it’s needed and cozy at the same time.