Love vs. Friendship: The Strange, Beautiful, Complicated World of Friendship

They (who are "they"? we don't know) say friendship and love are pretty much the same thing, but friendship, my friends (pun intended), it's weird, tricky, and at times, more complicated than love itself. And at times, is harder to maintain than a New Year’s resolutions. For me, friendship and love are the ultimate combo to happiness, the bread and butter of life, as long as I have friendship and love, I’m golden.

Aristotle—yes, that ancient dude with the long robes—once said in his classic work Nicomachean Ethics that Friendship is the most necessary thing in life. Basically, what's the point of conquering the world if you don't have someone to share your weirdly specific achievement of collecting all those magnets in the fridge with? What’s the point of hitting a milestone if you’ve got no one to high-five about it?

Like the guy who gets stranded on a deserted island with, of all people, Scarlett Johansson (Insert here your own AVATAR, love interest or celebrity crush). They get along, things heat up, and eventually, they... well, you know how the story goes. Alright, now, let’s flip this for the ladies—without getting myself canceled, of course (I mean, I’m not a woman, but I’m guessing Brad Pitt sounds about right for a comparison here, right?).

So, a woman gets stranded on a deserted island, and by some wild twist of fate, Brad Pitt is with her. They start getting along, things get cozy, and eventually………eventually my ass. She’s not just going to fall for him because he’s Brad freaking Pitt. No sir, women don’t just fall for a pretty face—they need to see the effort!. He’s got to work for it.

So, Brad has to go on a full survival romance hero on her. He hunts down coconuts, cracking them open and offering coconut water every morning, as they are like they’re Michelin-star meals. She learns there’s this rare flower that only grows on a nearby island—like, 3 miles away across shark-infested waters so, he swims there every single morning to pick her a fresh flower. And yes this is happening. Every. Single. Day.

After days (probably weeks) of Brad working hard, swimming miles for those rare flowers, cracking coconuts with his bare hands, and basically becoming the island's top provider, she finally lets her guard down. The effort has paid off, and things happen—you know what I mean. Sparks fly, stars align, the whole romantic island fantasy.

But the next morning, something’s off. Brad’s unusually quiet, which is so not like him. She looks over and says,

“Hey, what’s up? Everything okay?”

Brad fidgets a bit, then asks, “Could you do me a favor? Put on my clothes and this hat?”

She’s like, “Umm... sure?”—totally confused but willing to roll with it.

Then Brad, with this huge grin, says, “Now pretend you’re my best friend.”

She’s still confused, but she goes along with it. Brad beams, gives her a bro-pat on the back, and with a big, goofy smile says,

“Bro! You won’t believe this biaaaaatch!”

Friendship is that essential that even on a deserted island, Brad Pitt just needs a “bro” moment.

Now, I know what are you thinking. “What happened to my old crew from back in the day? Those college friends who seemed like they’d be in my life forever?” Well, they graduated, got fancy jobs, and now live in suburban utopias where you are not even on the guest list. “And my drinking buddies?” Yep, they’ve traded in late-night shots for early-morning baby bottles.

My friends? They’re scattered all over the globe like condoms after one of Diddy’s secret parties. But one text, a funny meme, or even an old-school letter (which is basically a DM that’s been cursed to live on paper) brings them right back into my life. Speaking of letters, I recently got a four-page letter from them. FOUR. I have no idea where they even found a pen and paper—like, did they raid a museum? Just the other day, J and I were walking on the beach, and I got a call from my manager, who started rattling off a list of names, so I ask J for a pen. The look she gave me. Pure horror, like I’d just asked her to summon a demon. She legit pointed at my iPhone like, “What is this, the 1800s?!” For a moment, it seemed like I had asked her to offer me a quill and some parchment.

This probably happens when you date younger women. I mean, we all underestimate Leonardo DiCaprio’s dedication to bridging that massive generational gap. The guy’s out here working hard, he’s auditioning for “The Youth Olympics”—but, instead of gold medals, he’s collecting younger girlfriends like they’re limited-edition sneakers, he’s helping us to keep up with trends, TikTok dances, and understanding the difference between “simp” and “CEO”. I know right now you are thinking WTF is a SIMP? Now, before you start Googling “what is a simp” like you’re trying to crack some ancient code, let me do some “Youthsplaining” to you.

"Simp," as it’s used today, stands for "Somebody, a Sucka who Idolizes Mediocre Pussy." Basically, Simp is typically used by men to make fun of other men who give women attention or who do something nice for them without getting any sexual favors in return — like buying her dinner or consoling her after a breakup or doing her homework because she didn’t have “time” (an example the teens on TikTok use a lot). My friends and I called this PAGAFANTAS. Which, by the way, is a great Basque movie if you ever need a good laugh. It’s basically the cinematic equivalent of waiting around for someone to notice you while you hold the last piece of pizza... and everyone’s too busy to care. Classic simp energy.

PS: Youthsplaining is basically the “let me break it down for you” of the Boomers. It’s when a young person explains something like they’re teaching a dog how to fetch—super patronizing, like they just invented Wi-Fi and need to explain it to you like you’re still using dial-up. This should not be confused with “Shelaborating,” which is what happens when you ask a woman a super simple question and get a 30-minute TED-talk answer. By the time she’s done, you’ve got a full thesis, and an existential crisis.

Wait, where I was? Oh yes, my friends and their letter... Sorry, sometimes I waste more time than a simp trying to get a text back. Seriously, as Three 6 Mafia used to sang “I’m over here trill working the wheel, a pimp, not a simp”

My friends, probably after coming up with a handful of excuses and a few lies about where they were, managed to escape their daily responsibilities and come together to celebrate a very special occasion—OUR FRIENDSHIP. And in the middle of their drunken chaos, they somehow found some quill and parchment (don’t ask me where they got it) and wrote me a letter. The letter was full of heartfelt messages about how much they miss me, how much they appreciate me, or, in some cases, just a friendly reminder that I’m a pussy for not being there. “Haber estado!!”, and some of them even went full Shakespearean and wrote me an ode to friendship. “if I know who you are, and you know who I am, then... wait, who am I when you’re not around?”