Where there's a will...

Should a friendship, by definition, always be a comfortable affair? By comfortable I do not mean happy or content but rather in the sense of assuredness and solidarity. The devil you know, in some way, is certainly a comfort even in consideration of other devils you don't. But how long can the devil you know stay a friend, a confidante, before fading into the ubiquitous land of acquaintances and then occasional thoughts that stray across a wandering mind? It's a common adage that love takes work but in my limited experience it seems that real friendship takes just as much if it is to have any depth - I suppose because friendships are just love by a different name and with a different form. Being constantly comfortable too easily leads into complacency from which it is hard to stir. Always at stake is the question of if the ripples caused would be paid back by the delight released: a hard quandary, one not to be entered upon lightly. The renewal of suspended association is especially poignant in this way, since there may be so many unknown reasons to keep the separation which will not be revealed until it is too late, and there is nothing for it but another breaking. Naturally this is the pessimistic view, but it is the very real fear involved in trying such an attempt. Is it worth the risk? And not only the risk of discovering difference, but the risk of a lack of reciprocation. Passive rejection, as it were, is none too pleasant. But the life led alone, even by choice, has its own chilling consequences which I, and I think most others, find too difficult to pursue. Once you've decided to leap, it's often best to ignore the width of the crossing.