Mature like is also painfully aware of limits. It knows that some people are for a season, not a lifetime. It doesn't view the end of a friendship as a failure, but as a natural tide. It knows how to say, "I like you, but I cannot save you," and how to walk away without arson.
Young like requires constant entertainment. It needs dinner parties, road trips, and grand gestures. Mature like is the person who sits in comfortable silence while you fold laundry. It is the friend who doesn't hang up when you sneeze directly into the phone receiver. Mature like knows that 90% of love is just showing up for the boring parts. like matures
We are raised on a diet of fairy tales and blockbuster movies that sell us a very specific vision of "like." In kindergarten, "like" is the glue stick—you share it with the kid who has the same color lunchbox. In high school, "like" is the currency of tribes; you are accepted based on your shoes, your taste in music, or your ability to be cynical. Mature like is also painfully aware of limits
Do not mourn the butterflies. They were never meant to live forever. Welcome the deep roots. They are the only thing that survives the drought. It knows how to say, "I like you,