Dear friend

It's been a little while since I've written to you. I know we haven't even known each other very long in the grand scheme of things anyways, but I digress. There'll be an awful lot of digressing before this letter is done so I might as well say it once and call it enough. Honestly, we haven't known each other much longer than a year, but I its obvious I have to remind myself of how brief it's actually been. It's funny (go on, laugh) how essential some people can become to you; despite how little you've actually known them you can't quite imagine your life without them anymore. You meet by chance, experience an instant click, and forget you don't even know each other's middle names (that's an expression no one's ever used before that I hope speaks to the emotion I'm avoiding finding exact words to express).

There've been a lot of friendships in my life that are important to me without a lot of logical reasoning behind it. That's something to do with the human condition, specifically one of the individual symptoms I suffer from. I like nonsense and unexplained choices, maybe because it makes me seem more mysterious and rare. Maybe the reason I "do" without thinking is because I'm more of an emotional man than a logical one. Maybe I'm maddeningly inconsistent, and contain multitudes. All that to say, the friendship that may have begun as a random connection and an unspoken agreement developed its own perfectly logical and understandable reasons for continuing-- specifically in this letter, for my gratitude towards you and the friendship as a whole.

You know as well as I do the initial thing we connected over was a love of dance and the theater-- obviously it's how we met, at two very different stages in life. You, an experienced and established professional, me, someone convinced for far too long and far too thoroughly that I fundamentally lacked what it took to make anything more than a hobby out of these arts I love so much. It didn't happen all at once, but through the opportunities that you connected me with and simple reassurance and encouragement about my prospects (as if you were fundamentally unaware of the impossible reasons I'd always hidden behind for why I couldn't pursue what it was I wanted to do) you changed my mind.

In the little space of time we've been friends my world has begun to turn-- if not all the way upside down at least forty-five degrees by now. I have applied myself to working in the field I admire and long for, and have been able to embrace and try for opportunities I didn't know existed. Your simple actions (which I know you never thought very much of outside of general friendship and human decency) reminded me of the other people, throughout my life, who saw what you see, people who saw me for who I was and what I could do, not what I was missing. Which is a long and roundabout way of saying that on top of empowering and inspiring me to pursue professional and aspirational changes in my life, I've also made strides in the greater, internal struggle against the ever-present self-doubt that is imposter syndrome.

I know you like letters, and I like writing them. Maybe that's the fourth thing. We don't see each other often, friend, since we're both as busy as we are. Busyness and distance keep us apart, until business brings us together. Sometimes it's like we're doing the same things in different directions, yours already finished, mine about to start, but we do often end up doing very similar things. That's more nonsense for a very low-paying joke that likely no one but me will get, and by the time I read this again I'm going to forget what I meant too. Anyways, I appreciate how easy your friendship is, I miss you, and we should get milkshakes again when it's not so cold.