If you were to ask most of my extended family members or acquaintances to describe me in one word, you would probably get several variations of the same common denominator: quiet. Which, I'm sure, is a very relative term considering most of my family would be best described as loud - in a good way, of course - in that they speak loudly, talk over one another, and seem to always be in competition to tell the better joke to get the most laughter, or to get the last word in. Because that's just the people they are.

A few weeks ago, at an Easter party at my uncle's house, one of my uncles made the comment that he had never heard me talk as much in my entire life as in that past hour or so. On the drive home, my mom addressed his comment while I was telling her a long-winded story, saying that "And to think that he doesn't think that ever talk."

And, the fact of the matter is, there are only certain people with whom I can allow myself to feel entirely comfortable and open up to tell everything that races through my head within any particular moment.

I have several friends who can make me laugh uncontrollably until my sides hurt and I'm gasping for air at the drop of a dime. These are the friends who know most details of my life, from the time I accidentally launched a fork in the middle of the school's dining hall to the amusement of another student who happened to be looking, to how I named my dog after a fictional cat. With them, I can't help but laugh aloud and talk until I'm breathless, because they give me the chance and the ear to listen while I do the same for them.

It feels so relieving to be able to talk to someone so openly and about anything that comes to mind in a way that is different from how most people see me. I would even dare to say that, if my family were to see me with a few select friends, they wouldn't recognize the laughter and stream of conversation that comes out when I'm in certain company. They are the friends I would yell across the green to just to get their attention long enough to wave to, or sit with for hours in the middle of the dining hall when no one is there to hear us quote comedy skits and sing Disney songs.

I can only think to describe the feeling as liberating, when I've been surrounded by people who erase the thought of judgement from others, where I can be entirely inhibited and myself without any regard for what anyone else might think. It's within those small windows when it makes sense that I come from the chaotic and extroverted family I do.

It's the best feeling in the world to be with friends and simply laugh about the minutest details for the longest periods of time, and I am beyond grateful.