It’s been a crazy last few years. I’ve lost some people, and met some new ones. One of my best friends got married, and my other best friend got engaged. There’s no way to express how excited I am for all of their futures. There just isn’t.
For a couple years now, I’ve been the 5th wheel of the group whenever we go out. However, it hasn’t ever bothered me. If you don’t count the few times that Jenn begged me to find a girlfriend, so she has someone to hangout with when she helps us at gigs, they’ve never made me feel like I needed to find that 6th wheel, or that I even am the 5th wheel.
A few days ago, it dawned on me, that I am the 5th wheel. Not in the usual way that you’d expect a 5th or 3rd wheel to be, but actually the steering wheel. But hold up! I don’t think that highly of myself, to self title…myself, as being the figurative steering wheel of the group, and whatever duties or traits that might imply. I’m more like the steering wheel on the kiddie car ride you find outside of a super market. You know the ones you walk by as an adult and say to your friend, “eh, dollar I can still fit in that.” Yeah, I said it, I’m the kiddie car steering wheel of my friends.
Don’t feel bad for me though. I take pride in knowing that even though I don’t actually do any steering of the other 4 wheels, it’s not a car without it, and you still wouldn’t get on the ride without that steering wheel. It’s just not the same 🙂