Agree to Disagree

I don’t think there is anyone in the whole world who is as similar to me as they are different from me. We are alike, we are unalike. Yet, somehow, both these differences and these similarities draw us together, bind us as friends.

Today is the 35th birthday of my best friend, Elena. Lane. Today, we are in her car, driving to Green Bay, to see a country music concert. Jake Owen and The Cadillac Three. Just a couple years ago, she wouldn’t have gone to a country concert (excepting when she went with me to see Christian Kane in 2009–that wasn’t for the concert, that was for me). She didn’t like country music. I did. But now she does and it is another thing to draw us together.

I’ve told the story before, of how I did not like her when we met and how I grew to love her for exactly who she is. It’s just an example. The things that separate us, the things we do not share, that is all I could see of her. But once I got to know her, it was the things that we share, love of books, love of reading, love of fiction, love of Dean Winchester, love of good looking men on television, love of movies, love self analysis, love of intellectual thought, love of cheeseburgers–these are the things that connect us, that thread our lives together, that make us best friends.

But then, we will discuss something and disagree, often, and she doesn’t like to argue and debate. I do. And so she says, “let’s just agree to disagree.” It drives me crazy. I don’t WANT to agree to disagree. I want to disagree and loudly until we’ve reached a point where we can agree or kill each other trying. That’s me. That’s not her.

It’s how we’re different.

It’s how we’re alike.

It’s the things about her that make up who she is, those are the things that I love. It’s that she overpacks and takes things too seriously and thinks I’m funnier than her and depends on me to find her books and never remembers what she’s read and still sighs over Dean Winchester’s perfection and puts up with my obsessive need to talk all the time and likes the culture of drinking but doesn’t really like to drink and is super flexible but wholly stubborn and can crack me up like no one else. These are the things of her. The things that make me so damn happy that she is my best friend.

It’s her birthday. We’re on our way. Jake Owen better rock our respective worlds.

Happy birthday, Lane. Thanks for being such a wonderful friend.


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