It's my friend's birthday. One of my best friends.
I have no idea why he is such a good friend of mine. I confide in him my most intimate secrets, and I would do practically anything he would ask.
But he doesn't.
And that's the thing. While he is one of the first two or three persons I would call, I don't think I am even on his list. If he throws a party or takes some friends on an adventure, I barely make the list.
Part of it is that he's popular. Which again is partly because he treats everybody with the same respect. And kindness. But to really get to the heart of him, that is another matter. In the twenty years (this August) since he introduced himself to me, I don't think he has ever confided in me. Sat down and told me about his demons. So I sometimes feel that we don't have a balanced friendship. That we are more akin to confider-confidant.
I gave him a present for his birthday. Thought about it long and hard, since it was an ends-in-five birthday.
And he was so glad!
He just blurted out stuff, excitedly. Overjoyed, he told me how utterly cool and original he thought the gift was, and how happy he was with it.