Yesterday, a dear friend and former roommate told me a story: “For the last two weeks, I’ve thought about you twice a day, and every time, I had to laugh. Remember when we lived together and, at one point, we couldn’t fathom how, no matter how squished and mangled it already was, you could still get what feels like two months’ worth of toothpaste out of the tube? For some reason, I keep remembering this discussion every time I brush my teeth nowadays, and it always makes me chuckle.”
Naturally, like many other things I was around for, I couldn’t recall this interaction at all — but I sure do agree: It’s uncanny how much toothpaste is left in that first 10% of the tube behind the nozzle, and it still makes me mad how much huffing and puffing it takes for me to get it out.
What’s annoying in toothpaste, however, is wonderful in friendship: No matter how old the relationship, how little contact you have, or how different you have become, there’s always a little more joy to be squeezed out of it — if only you make the effort to press.