So I’ve got a new friend. I feel excited about this. It’s a good thing. I’m 33 and have a new friend.
Friends don’t grow on trees. No, seriously, they don’t. They’re more like carrots maybe? You know that they are there but you don’t know how big a friend they are until you have to dig deep and you see their true colours. Usually orange.
(Please let me take a moment to reflect at my own ability to amaze myself.)
Some people say you don’t need new friends as you get older but I think it’s nice to meet someone who doesn’t know all your mistakes from the past and who just likes you for who you are now.
My new friend and I don’t have any friends in common so I don’t have to ask about them. We both lose our train of thought quite easily so we can talk for hours. She did not look at me strangely when I ate a waffle with chocolate sauce at 5pm even though we both knew it was going to be my dinner.
She is sweet, kind and short.
Hmmm… Maybe 4 years olds had it right after all. Making friends is fun.
It’s nice to be liked.