I had a conversation last night with a friend who there has been some romantic interest with. We hadn’t spoken for a while and I found myself looking forward to it, imagining the laughs we would have and the pleasure of catching up with someone, getting to know them better, feeling connection. But when the call came those things didn’t happen, our conversation was wooden and we didn’t really connect; it felt forced. I found myself going back and examining our other interactions, had we ever had that strong of a connection? Were my expectations formed by something real, or my imagination? The truth is somewhere in between, as it often is. He and I do share a lot; a perspective on life, a respect for each other, a passion for adventure. But not all people sharing a philosophy of life with are meant to become soul-mates. When the excitement of sharing those things passes away, there is more to friendship with a person. Whether friendship or romantic partnership, compatibility and chemistry are not the sums of similarities and differences. This is a pretty simple truth I think, but still who hasn’t been disappointed when someone you felt connection with turned out to not be quite right for you? I have. But this time I wasn’t disappointed, I’ve found that there’s no arguing with an experience like that. I could get into a lot of trouble trying to figure out where I went wrong or what happened. But it seemed so easy to just accept that my reality had changed and our friendship held something different from what I thought it had. I went on making my fish stew, with fresh bell peppers and poblanos, bay leaves, red pepper flakes, olive oil and garlic sizzling in the cast iron skillet that I cook everything in. I chopped and stirred in a really content silence, enjoying my own company and a slow drift of thoughts and ideas, excited about where I am in life.