Different Friends
Not all friends are created equal — and that’s okay.
The other day, I met up with an old co-worker. Let’s call him Miguel.
We’ve known each other for years, Miguel and I, but hanging out became more difficult after I quit our mutual public service job in New York City. He was the only person at that job that I formed a true bond with — someone I could not only complain about work with, but discuss other things as well.
Those “other things,” however, were never all that serious.
We spoke at length about the ups and downs of comic books. We shared our favorite shows in the hopes the other would watch it. We drooled over the hole-in-the-wall burrito place we often went to during lunch. (Burrito Box, for anyone in the NYC area. You’re welcome.)
We never dug into the nitty-gritty of our respective love lives. We never mined the depths of one another’s hopes, dreams, and fears. We never got personal beyond what was cursory.
… There’s no “but,” in case you were waiting for one.
Our friendship wasn’t — isn’t — superficial. We genuinely enjoy one another’s company, sparse though it is these days. We know what we are to one another, what to expect from one another, and what we need from one another.
