Lucky, but not by accident

21 November 2005

My first impressions of people are usually way off. It’s not because I am a bad judge of character or because I am not attentive enough to read people correctly. It’s mostly because what you see upon a first initial meeting is usually just a thin and incomplete representation. But as you get to know people, you begin to see who they really are. A few times in a lifetime, you might come across someone you see in a way you don’t see other people. You see them and know them without wading through the arduous task of peeling away the layers to determine who they really are and if they are true friend material. I stumbled on such a friend although I do not believe that stumble was coincidence.

Michelangelo felt that sculptures already existed inside of the marble, and as the sculptor it was his passion and responsibility to reveal and liberate that form. That is how I see this friendship. I’m not sure that there was one specific moment that we solidified our friendship because it’s almost as if it was always there just waiting to be chipped at and revealed. I remember the first time I met her. It was my first Sunday back in New York in May. It was sort of a quick and insignificant introduction, but I remember feeling that she and I would be good friends although I had no idea that it would be what it is today. I don’t remember the day, moment or event in which we became such good friends because it’s hard to remember what life was like before her like it’s hard to remember what it was like before cell phones and email.

Some people think it’s funny that we are such good friends because we are so very different. We are a striking contrast to each other in appearance… she is very tall and thin with long skinny legs, long dark hair and dark eyes. I am at least 2 inches shorter with average length muscular legs, long blond hair and blue eyes. I am super athletic and have a rather small appetite. She’s not super athletic and could out eat me any day. She’s approachable, naturally flirtatious and genuinely loving and kind to everyone she meets. I am less approachable and not flirty at all. She is OCD about germs. I am OCD about cleaning. Despite our differences, we just work. We share a lot of the same interests in music, movies, entertainment. We share similar views on relationships and life. We both feel like maybe we are destined to be single forever and have decided if that is the case we will just move in together and get a couple of dogs. And we have the same philosophy on traveling… it is the only thing worth spending money on.

She loves sour gummy worms and Almond Joys and her favorite movies are “Waiting for Guffman” and “Best in Show.” She hates her glasses. She loves her family and gets homesick easily. She and her sisters often leave each other voicemails with movie quotes. She loves to text message and she doesn’t usually answer her phone especially the week before her cell phone cycle runs out because she is usually out of minutes. But although I adore all of those differences and similarities and things that make her unique, they are not why I love her. She is most certainly one of the most amazing women I have ever met…definitely in my top 5. She has a genuine kindness and gentility about her that make her so real and refreshing. There is no question to her sincerity, and she has a way of making everyone around her feel special and important. She goes out of her way to make sure people feel welcome and noticed in social situations. She’s smart, talented, witty, adventurous and so fun. And she’s beautiful. We can spend hours upon hours together talking, laughing, dancing, joking, crying and I never get tired of her. In fact, I often miss her when she is not around. Sometimes we disagree. Sometimes I am too honest. Sometimes I get upset because I am impatient. Sometimes she gets mad because I accidentally touch her food before I use the hand sanitizer or let it touch the table. But at the end of the day, none of that matters and we are still “besties.”

I once wrote about why we have friends and why we choose to be friends with certain people and it usually comes down to the fact that they make our lives richer in some way, that we derive some value from their presence in our lives and vice versa. They support, encourage and love. They demand the best but accept that we have faults. They make us smile, see things differently and appreciate the world and the life we live a little bit more. She and I are friends because we don’t try to change each other. She loves me for who I am and I for her. She accepts my occasional moodiness, and I accept her perpetual lateness. There is no competition, no struggle to be better than the other. My experience in New York would be memorable and fun regardless, but she has made it more meaningful, and I would not want to have it any other way. I try hard not to take for granted each day because unless our back up plan goes into effect, I am sure there will be a day when things will change, and I don’t want to regret that I had not taken advantage of every moment.

It’s no accident that a masterpiece emerges from the marble, and it’s no accident that we have incredible people who come into our lives. We get lucky, but not by accident.