The worth of a true friend is beyond counting. Half a dessert is much better than a whole dessert if you can share it with someone who is really and honestly a friend. Sometimes we tell our stories to a friend just so we can hear ourselves think, and sometimes it is so we can remember that we are more than most people imagine. A friend holds the mystery of us in delicate balance with the obnoxious pieces of us. A friend laughs with us when we have a moment of (usually abysmal) self discovery. A friend revels in our successes because they know we would die if we didn't catch the ball sometimes. A friend worries when they haven't heard from us for a while. They get us out of jams we have put ourselves in and come to our picnics with baskets full.
I have some friends like this. Not dozens of them, but some. You know who you are. I am sitting on my porch tonight thinking about you, friend. Thinking about how you don't get angry or disappointed in me even when I am disappointed in myself. Thinking about how you bring all your strength into my situations and make me look good. Thinking about whether or not you will help me fix my curtains.
I have made a pie. If a friend came by I would share some. I would forget my attempts (feeble at best) to become willowy and eat and laugh and we would both feel good. The problem with friends is that you are not here to share my pie. So I will have to eat it all on your behalf. But it won't be near so good.