Not the ones built on fun. The ones built on 2 am honesty and nowhere else to go. Press enter or click to view image in full size Photo by Land O'Lakes, Inc. on Unsplash I met my closest friend during the worst year of my life. Not the dramatic kind of worst. Not a single catastrophic event with a clear before and after. Just a year where everything felt slightly wrong in a way I couldn’t precisely name. Where I was living inside a life that fit the way a shirt fits when you’ve bought the wrong size — not unwearable, just never quite right. Where I woke up most mornings with a low-grade feeling that I was somehow missing the point of something important. I wasn’t in good company that year. I was distracted, inconsistent and prone to long silences in the middle of conversations. I was the friend who cancelled plans and meant to reschedule, and sometimes didn’t. I was operating at reduced capacity and doing a mediocre job of hiding it. Most people, when you are like that, give you gentle space.…