He experienced the singular pleasure of watching people he loved fall in love with other people he loved.

To no one, he knew, not even to Willem. But he'd had years to learn how to keep his thoughts to himself; unlike his friends, he had learned not to share evidence of his oddities as a way to distinguish himself from others, although he was happy and proud that they shared theirs with him

I know my life's meaningful because"- and here he stopped, and looked shy, and was silent for a moment before he continued- "because I'm a good friend. i love my friends, and I care about them, and I think I make them happy.

Could you have a real friendship if some part of you was always expecting betrayal?

He got to see his friends differently, not as just appendages to his life but as distinct characters inhabiting their own stories; he felt sometimes that he was seeing them for the first time, even after so many years of knowing them.

I want to be alone," he told him."I understand," Willem said. "We'll be alone together.

Everyone thought they would be friends for decades, forever. But for most people, of course, that hadn't happened. As you got older, you realized that the qualities you valued in the people you slept with or dated weren't necessarily the ones you wanted to live with, or be with, or plod through your days with. If you were smart, and if you were lucky, you learned this and accepted this. You figured out what was most important to you and you looked for it, and you learned to be realistic.

He had never done it before, and so he had no real understanding of how slow, and sad, and difficult it was to end a friendship.

But now he knew: you always sacrificed something. The question was what you sacrificed.