The concept of remaining friends . . . friends for life, and what it means to be a friend . . .

An equal, physically and geographically different from you, but somehow is able to judge you the in the most accurate way. Someone to whom you have revealed your pure being - no glamour, no expectations, no romance.

For me, this person is someone who allows me to enjoy moments of my life passing, by equally enjoying progressive sunsets and the spiraling un-ending conversations they inspire, with me, sometimes in sobering tones of science and life, other times dissolving in harmless ego-mania and fits of hysterical laughter. Never is our relationship in question, perhaps because we have already gone through that stage, and now see each other much less frequently.

Usually this type of person will say something like, "I've been playing the guitar!" when you, yourself, have been recently playing the guitar and neither of you have spoken about that particular action for years, but you are both suddenly playing the guitar in your lives . . . you can further understand what and why one might be feeling the way they feel, because you know what it is to feel as though you need to start playing the guitar, because the air may feel a bit stuffy these days, and your heart might feel a bit tired these days, and your soul might feel like singing out these days but your mouth doesn't seem to work these days, and your writing feels briefly satisfying like ripe watermelon but boasts no substance these days, and the burn on your fingertips feels really, really good these days, and the notes hang in the stuffy air like drunken winged watermelons . . . and your friend says yes, that is the way I feel, and you know she isn't exaggerating, because she would never need to.

She and I ate turkey sandwiches on the side of the road recently, incidentally in front of an alien shaped like an ostrich. Six months had passed since our last meeting, a nightmarish trip to Las Vegas that I may someday recite, but I found myself comfortable in the warmth of our combined energies, once more settling instinctively into that unchanging, familiar aura of midnight swims and adventures, caffeine-driven drives to LA, dance practice in abandoned parking lots, dusky nights in San Francisco painted like Halloween . . . we enjoyed the sunset.

1. Carly 2. Madeline