Today I met an old friend for coffee, which turned out to be lunch, because it was 3pm and I just got up. So I guess it could have been considered breakfast. Maybe brunch. Point is, it became a meal instead of a drink.
She was one of my better friends in my time living here in Paris. She was from Poland originally, and was here for much longer than I was, approaching seven years in Paris by the time we met in late 2011. We didn’t always get along – we were probably too much alike for that to happen – and our personalities ensured that any time we disagreed, it would be colorful, noticeable, and entertaining for anyone nearby. But even in those moments we always knew we cared about each other; in some ways we were just like a cranky married couple that had spent entirely too much time together.