Everyone knows all about the weird, “What am I doing with my life?” game that Facebook can incite. You sign on and your newsfeed is inundated with weddings and babies from your former classmates. Even though I have no desire to have any of those things now, there is sometimes this feeling that these things are markers of accomplishments; they’re like life’s merit badges. Being competitive and self-involved, I start to wonder where my merit badges are. Maybe I don’t want those merit badges — hell I can be downright derisive of them at times — but damnit I want some too!

This summer, however, I have had the joy of learning that it doesn’t have to be like that. Three people I love with all my heart have joined the ranks of future-merit-badge-recipients. My older cousin got engaged in June; my first college friend got engaged last week; and yesterday, my best friend.

I was thinking about how happy I am for them and I was kind of struck by what seemed an uncharacteristic lack of making it all about me. (At least I know my vices.) Truly, none of the obsessive, “WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?” questions even entered into the equation. Three people who mean the world to me are ecstatic and so I am ecstatic, and that is all there is to it.

That’s what makes best friends, though, isn’t it? Maybe there’s something automatically self-involved about it, because your best friends are the people who become a part of you. They are you and you are them and the big events in their lives are as vital as your own, because they’re all tied up. I remember the heartache moments that I have known them through, and felt the sorrow in those moments as acutely as I feel this happiness for them now.

To the cousin I grew up admiring and wanting to be just like; to the roommate whose wisdom and proper timing of sage advice and show-tune-singing dominate the highlight reel of my college career; and to the very best friend I could ever have asked for, who has held my hand across time zones for every big thing that has happened in the last ten years: congratulations on the amazing futures that lie ahead of you all. Thank you for being wonderful; you are so thoroughly deserving of every happiness that comes your way.

I can’t wait to get drunk and dance to the Cha Cha Slide or the Cupid Shuffle or whatever the hell follow-the-lyrics-and-dance songs the DJ will play while we all laugh and think about how damn much we love you. (A lot.)

I’ve only had a chance to hug one of three; I’m coming for the other two soon enough, I promise.

Congratulations. I love you.