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Text reblogged from Hi. with 108 notes
It’s 1am and I’m just back from a gross meal at this place called Astro Family Diner? Never go there. I don’t know how I’ve found myself there twice in the past week.
I sat across from my friend Dave who I just adore. I really do. You know when you look up to someone, but it would be weird for you to say so? That’s Dave for me.
But we’re just sitting there, over our gray food complaining about our non-problems: like me loudly saying I don’t want to date anyone when I’m clearly dating someone and his, which are kind of the inverse of that.
“Everyone in the entire world is having this conversation. ‘I don’t want this but I’m doing the thing that will make that happen.’ Over and over and over again!” But we’re allowed make revelations that have been made a million times before, and to be loud and self-important at midnight on a Tuesday because we’re in our 20s for chrissakes. And yeah, we know that ultimately we’re going to be fine. We get it, we get it.
But sitting there, across from a person I truly consider one of my closest friends, I realized that no, our problems aren’t important. But of course they are. And so is staying up late to yell about romantic injustices with someone that makes you laugh uncontrollably. Everything is stupid and everything is wonderful.
This is what I’ll remember about this period of my life: not heartache or love or career uncertainty or whatever. It’s those friends, man. They’re it.
Everything about this is true, especially about how gray the food is at Astro.