It is a rare thing to go through life without leaving a mark. Rarer still to not drift into memories, be remembered when we feel forgotten, to reach out when it’s exactly what somebody needs. Rare is the friend that stays for all seasons, and rare is the season that doesn’t bring new friends. Rare is the friendship that doesn’t need work. Rare is the person who always gets it right. We are all works in progress, and as works in progress we are all something worth celebrating. As are our friendships, whether fleeting or long-lasting. Precious, rare things indeed.


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