a familiar face

I had coffee yesterday with an old friend I hadn't seen in a long time. Too long, really. I have to admit that I wondered a little about who was going to show up. Would it be the person I remembered? Would they still be familiar or would I have to look twice just to be sure? Sitting here now in the omniscient 'after' I can say this -- some things don't change.

There is a certain kind of friendship that always lets you come home. It lets you pick up right where you left off as if you'd only stepped out of the room. I think it would stretch right over a ten year abscence, but that's not a theory I want to test. It's strange writing this and knowing who will read it; almost seems like cheating. But let me say simply this: I looked across the table and saw a familiar face. And it felt good. I promise not to wait so long next time.