...this was written with me in mind?
If a friend is someone who laughs at our stories, then a good friend is one who enjoys them even the second time around. But anyone who gasps with delight on hearing a story for the third time is faking it. Or, it’s a relative: some poor nephew Will or aunt Emily, sitting captive at the holiday table, being polite, perhaps covering a shudder of dread that life is caught in some endless loop where the punch lines never change.
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