Is there a chance that having thought all my life that I don’t make friends easily, that I–in fact–do makes friends as easily as the next person, I just don’t realize they’re my friends?

When I think to myself, “who would be the least bothered by my call right now?” maybe I should be thinking “who would like the most to support me in this moment of distress right now?”

Perhaps, in the end, we are far more loved than we realize.