I accept no substitutes

My different friends play different roles in this little reality show I call a life. And I find they are most definitely NOT interchangeable.

My oldest friend, the one I've known since Kindergarten, is my touchstone. She knows my history, my secrets, and how I got here. She went through a bad patch recently but is emerging from it with both her genial mood and awesome sense of humor restored. But she's not the same as my best friend.

There's the man I've referred to on this blog as John. We've known one another a quarter of a century and in some ways, he raised me. His sensitivity to, and genuine interest in, others makes him the soul of tolerance. He also REALLY ratcheted up my party threshold over the years. But he's not the same as my best friend.

My best friend trusts me and shares with me. He encourages me to do the same with him. He sees me as I am and accepts me. When he is busy and unhappy and distracted like he's been lately, I miss him. HIM. If I simply wanted company, I'd be completely content spending time with my oldest friend or John. But as wonderful as they are, they aren't my best friend. And sometimes, no one else will do.