Some nights are just meant to be. Not in any sweeping, dramatic way. But moreso a subtle, comforting way of making your soul at ease. No bars. No chaos or cacophony. Just friends, a couch and the weight of the world lifted from shoulders.

This should come as no surprise. I guess by nature I’m a “coffee shop” person. By this I simply mean that I’m a more low-key, conversation-centered individual. In high school I actually preferred going to a (get ready) coffee shop as opposed to watching another movie at someone’s house. I’m not sure most of my other friends felt the same way, and in fact I often caught flack for not wanting to just watch a movie. I just love talking with friends. It reaffirms my humanity and warms my soul to connect with a friend in great dialogue.

College was bliss because I found a group of people who shared the same sentiments. One year nine of us lived in this grand house, many of us staying up late at night after our studying to just talk. These were exhausting conversations because of their length, breadth of topic and consequence; knowing that you’re only going to get 2 hours of sleep adds a layer of excitement, rebelliousness and somehow, more worth to the experience. You go through the next day sluggish and dragging, yet comforted by the notion that it was all more than worth it and you’d do it again in a heartbeat. I came out of college, geographically, with one friend with whom I still share the most incredible discussions.

I’m unspeakably lucky to live with him, but unfortunate that our career paths disallow us much time to indulge in what we used to wield so freely. Our talks are few and far between, and always seem to carry the silent caveat of “not being able to talk for long.” But be that as it may, our rare discussions are the most invaluable, precious items in my life. Sad as it may seem, it’s those types of talks that recharge my being. It’s as if connecting with someone on that deep level restores my faith in humanity, and reminds me that there are a few people left that defy the arrogant, ignorant, self-absorbed drone stereotype that I hold to most of adults (note: bad, bad habit I have. too much Bad Religion). This may seem like a shallow, weak sentiment for my friends. But indeed in my backwards way of thinking it’s the highest compliment that I could pay. They restore my hope.

So anyway, long story long, last night was one of those nights. Caution to the wind, sleep be damned and previous plans diverted, an evening at home with some friends, a good documentary and plenty of time to talk leaves one feeling fresh and rejuvenated.

I needed that. Badly.