I used to wonder what friendship could be

I still know the My Little Pony theme song by heart. This is a short nod to my friends who never fail to make my belly-laugh.

I genuinely do not know how I have not run out of laughs in my body. There’s a part of me that fears that someday the tank will just run out. I’ll officially meet my quota for the day; my facial muscles will grow too tired of contracting and my respiratory system will run out of oxygen.

At least that’s how I feel when I’m around my friends, and it’s the most joyous feeling.

Game nights at my house are somewhat of a famous event, or I like to make them that way. I like to exaggerate everything into an over-the-top, elaborately planned fiesta; it’s a labor of love. Growing up with four siblings, I’ve just loved games (admittedly, not to the extent and extremism that my best friend does), but I have grown even more appreciative of the intimate power of game nights.

I revel in the trumpets and horns that accompany the fanfare of my game nights. So far, there have been a total of three game nights at my house, and only one of my friends has been there since the very beginning (it’s a coveted invite, and he’s a real one).

Game nights mean embarrassing stories about the time you got into a physical fight with your teacher or confession stories about crimes that you got away with or breakup stories about your fifth-grade girlfriend. Game nights mean home-cooked meals that have been prepped by my mom and sisters over an entire week, assigned seating with inside jokes as name cards, and the unspoken and automated after-dinner clean-up by my family. Game nights mean jump scares, silent treatments, and side-eye glares from my siblings all in the name of love. It’s all that and more.

What I’m saying is that game nights, to me, have really emphasized the immense magic of friendship (My Little Pony was right). They are hours-long events with people that I would give my kidney to in the place I call home, and they are the peak of my pride as a human being.

My smile beams when my guy friends show a little more of their personality in front of my parents or when my sisters get a little closer to my best friend taking her in as another sister or when someone I have known for years offers me the same unconditional kindness they did when we were in fifth-grade. My heart soars when I get to shake my head in embarrassment at my dad even though I know my friends think he is the coolest person ever. My entire body physically reacts to the beauty of people being their best selves because they want to show up and eat dinner and play games.

This is getting saccharine.

All I’m saying is that I have witnessed friends come and go in my siblings’ lives. My parents ask about friends they remembered were close to my brothers and sisters but are now just another closed chapter in their story.

I have seen people come and go as well. My friendships change over time, and yet, there’s something so constant and secure about the people I want to spend a game night with, whether that be in my home or in my apartment or at someone else’s house.   

I seriously wish I were a rainbow pony flying around the skies defeating darkness with the power of friendship. That sounds like the right life for me.

I am just in awe of the quality of friendships I have in my life, and I’m not sure how I got so lucky to find people that get confused that Alaska is next to Russia or get riled up over the number of players on the baseball field.

Thank you for showing me that laughs are limitless. I don’t know. I’m traveling, and maybe I’m just feeling homesick…