#powdering

Lines.

Creases.

Signs of age.

W r i n k l e s.

I suddenly had a moment where I filled with an immature, little-sister-like urge to playfully taunt him about my discovery, to gently tease him about his appearance, as if he were unaware. “You’ve got some lines, buddy,” I was about to say.

But something stopped me. After studying his fine lines, I pulled back to look over his entire, sweet face, eyes closed obediently just as I’d instructed him. Trusting. Gentle. Grounded. Assured. He was the very same person that I’d known five years before. Except with lines. Lines that made him a different person than the kid I knew at 19. 

Something in my heart grew, and an overwhelming wave of emotion flooded my chest.

“You’ve got lines.” 

The phrase echoed silently in my head, but this time, filled with love and wonder, not mockery. Suddenly, I found his lines so completely beautiful. 

See, I’m only a year younger than him. And lately, I’ve noticed a few lines on my face too. On my forehead. Lines that have bothered me. Intimidated me. Scared me.

But by really studying the lines of my friend’s face, I could no longer bring myself to think badly about them. They are, I realized, a very natural thing. A widely unpreventable thing. Lines are a part of life. They indicate age, but they also indicate experience. Wisdom. Maturity. Dedication. Lines indicate work, and passion, and life. They tell a story. They prove to you and everyone else that you’ve accomplished life on this planet for an extended period of time; you’ve seen, felt, and experienced things, and have something marvelous to show for it.

I paused and studied his lines some more. I was proud that our friendship had now carried us into this stage of life. 

I felt like Jennifer Garner in “13 Going On 30,” after she and Mark Ruffalo jump off of the swing set. She takes hold of his arm for the first time since they were kids, and marvels at his arm hair. “You’ve got arm hair,” she whispers, smiling, filled with awe and fascination. “It’s never quite got that reaction before,” he replies, amused by her amusement. 

“You’ve got lines,” I wanted to say to David. And of course, what I’d mean would be “Wow - You’ve earned lines.” You’re growing up. We’re growing up. We’ve made it to this point, to this stage of life where these things are normal. Beautiful. Exciting. We’ve remained friends into these fine years of fine lines. And that’s okay. More than okay. It’s pretty darn beautiful.