I’ve been thinking about what keeps people together, in the tight lock of friendship, where the air is fresh, but harboured in a small space, so as not to let the trust escape. Everyone is busy. We face inwards. Thoughts of you drift in and then out and the action is forgotten. If only we had all the hours of the day. But there is power in a gesture, big or small, it has the power to disarm, and remembering the core of the matter. There are many reasons you may dance around making a gesture, maybe you lost your belief, maybe you are hurt, maybe you have declared yourself painfully alone forever. But often, you are just one step away from falling into the depths of sincerity, and a truth exchange that allows you breathe out for hours. It could happen over a drink called loneliness, or a Moscow Mule for two at a bar, and wouldn’t that just be the happiest hour? So reader-friend, will you listen to me, silently, with a slate that’s clean of objections? It’s never too late for the genuine, love is love, whether it is sent in a text or written on a lonely tree. Whether it is told with a gif or being tagged in a meme. Often you have to move, give, it is not a given you will receive, but can you afford to miss out on the friendship of your dreams? And you know it, when you see it, that gesture that bowls you over. You run to the mirror and you see it in your face, the tensions and arguments that you let go of now running, like heavy water, it is disappearing down the sinkhole. Now you can let your love flow, now you can let that shit go. Own it, project it, and marvel at it: then watch it dry like glitter on a wet bar of a hopeful night.