It’s not every friend who remains loyal to you day in and day out, through thick and thin, for over a year. But you have stuck by me. You have been there for me when I relocated for graduate school. You were present on my wedding day. You even stuck with me through late nights of studying and paper-writing. I know if I need you in the early morning or late at night, you’ll be there.
Perhaps it’s worth noting that we are complete strangers.
A randomizer in the Dice with Buddies app introduced us, and we have never shared words (…with Friends). There’s just this understood code. Play. Win or lose. The last person always hits “rematch”. Winning or losing doesn’t really matter anymore, since the act of playing has simply become a staple of life. Missing at most a day or two between rolls, the interaction is predictable…and beloved.
Sure, I have sometimes wondered what your name is or where you live. I’ve probably spent more time than necessary deciding that we live in nearly the same time zone because our rolls match up almost seamlessly. I’ve also hit the messenger button countless times to make a sassy comment about the close game or the fact that I have an entire personality thought up based entirely on your score after score after score.
But then I stop to think about it.
No. It just feels like breaking the silence would ruin this unspoken relationship. What if all we have in common is the rolling of 5 dice? What if eliminating the mystery on the other side of the network ruins what we have going? I just couldn’t risk what we have. What’s the saying? Good fences make good neighbors? Perhaps in this era, a solid cell phone screen and indecipherable profile picture will do.
So today I will just continue rolling, waiting for my phone to light up with your next move.