During a recent visit to Boston, an old friend reached out to me via Facebook. I hadn't seen him in over ten years, but we've kept in touch and made a plan to meet for breakfast.
My friend and I first met when I worked at Harvard and was in charge of the human resources website. The site was in need of a major overhaul (this was in 1999), and I selected his firm from the contenders. I loved the work that the company did, and I loved the team that did it. They were a funny, smart, and talented group, lead by my friend, and once the work stopped, he and I would have the occasional meal or coffee while I lived in the Boston area.
My husband and I eventually moved to Seattle, but my friend and I stayed connected, and when I met him for a breakfast a few weeks ago, it was as if the intervening decade hadn't happened. We fell into easy conservation about his daughter's gymnastic accomplishments and my underwater adventures. He talked about his newfound love for running marathons, and I updated him on the world of publishing. Although we caught up on the past, more of our conversation was about the present and the future, and perhaps that's the key to this kind of friendship: An excitement in learning what comes next for the other person.
This friend is not the only person with whom I feel an affection and connection that isn't dependent upon proximity or frequency of visits. My closest friend from college could walk in the door, and I guarantee within ten minutes, we'd be lounging on the couch talking about anything and everything. Some people just click, and it's a gift when circumstances put you in each other's universes.
