Most friendships do not end in conflict. They end in neglect: a slow accumulation of moments that were not prioritised, messages that were not sent, plans that were not made, check-ins that were deferred until the gap was too wide to bridge comfortably. The friendship does not break. It simply fades, and at some point both people, without announcing it or perhaps even noticing, have stopped being in each other lives. This pattern is structurally predictable. Adult life is organised around things that press: work, family, immediate responsibilities. Friendship, particularly mature friendship, is not designed to press. It will wait quietly. And so, in a life managed by urgency, friendship loses to almost everything else almost every time, not because it matters less but because it asks less loudly. The friendship that survives adult life requires something deliberate. Not just goodwill, not just the intention to stay in touch, but actual choices: to make the call, to show up when it would be easier not to, to prioritise the person when they are not demanding to be prioritised. These are not large gestures. They are small, regular acts of maintenance that, sustained over time, are what the relationship actually is. The friendship is not the feelings you have about someone. The friendship is what you do.