I have a wise friend who says, ​“You can’t make old friends.” This is the gospel according to Ed (and Kenny and Dolly). I value friendship more than almost anything. Friendships have supplanted familial relationships, which have mostly failed me. So, when I pursue a friendship, I jump in cannonball style — big splash — and openly share. Many of my closest and longest friendships started with conversations about death and dying, sex, or some other taboo topic most people never dare discuss with their confidants. I go in deep — and so do my friends. Over time, as the connection strengthens, we develop trust and then love. Dopamine floods my brain. My heart is satiated. I am committed and willing to do almost anything to be a good friend and protect our bond. 

Sometimes, however, as life happens and circumstances change, a friendship develops a crack — or worse. A person I love feels unfamiliar. There’s less openness and vulnerability. Our once-powerful connection short circuits. I start to worry about my safety in their hands. I reach out to try to repair the crack before it gets bigger. But my attempts fall flat. What do I do? Do I walk away? Do I abandon something so precious? Maybe. But I’ll probably try again. You know what they say about old friends.