after a call and a letter
Sometimes just talking to an old friend whom you don't get to speak to or meet very often brings tears to your eyes. Talking to them you realise how far and few such people are who you consider close to yourself, you realise how much you have missed a carefree conversation laden with memories, you realise how much you have missed the lilt in your voice, you realise how much you have missed being with a 'friend' who's not measuring every word you utter and judging you for your traits, your opinions, your idiosyncrasies. Certain aspects of you come alive only in the company of certain people, certain bonds, certain relationships. I realise most of my close friends share a common characteristic - they cannot tell you in person what you mean to them, they write to you just after you've left or hung up to acknowledge that.
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