Midding (v.) : feeling the tranquil pleasure of being near a gathering but not quite in it hovering on the perimeter of a campfire, chatting outside a party while others dance inside, resting your head in the backseat of a car listening to your friends chatting up front-feeling blissfully invisible yet still fully included, safe in the knowledge that everyone is together and everyone is okay, with all the thrill of being there without the burden of having to be.

I sit further away from the group, so I can just watch and enjoy the craziness that comes with living with 22 other people.

They joke, laugh, yell, sing, and dance. You can see the joy on their faces and feel it in the room.

Some sit playing a card game, some talk together, and the others are showing each other things on their phone. 

And I know that if I wanted to join and be apart of anything that’s going on, all I would have to do is come closer. But I don’t want to. 

I gain just as much happiness, if not more, by watching them all enjoy life. It gives me time to appreciate life and all of its blessings to the fullest. 

My heart feels warm watching them. And I know without a doubt that I’m seeing my friends through God’s eyes.

And it’s the most beautiful thing.