Earlier this week, two of America’s former sweethearts, Reese Witherspoon and Meg Ryan, were spotted leaving an office building at the same time. To the best of my knowledge, the women have never been photographed together out in the wild—so the image isn’t entirely devoid of significance. But seeing them didn’t surprise me the way it surprised many others:
“Who knew they were friends?” asked The Daily Mail.
“Rom-Com Icons Witherspoon and Ryan Are Actually Friends,” gasped People.
“Yay! New bestie alert!” screamed E! Online.
But me? I felt a familiar tightening of the muscles in my face, covered my mouth, and yawned. That Reese Witherspoon is friends (or at least friendly) with Meg Ryan should surprise none of us. It is as predictable a companionship as the one between siblings who are a decade apart—though the age difference prevented them from becoming close early in life, all it took was years of growing older for their common ground to be paved.
Reese and Meg. Meg and Reese. Two women who used to entertain the world while perched at its peak, and whose lives took them to closer to sea level at different trajectories and speeds. They’ve finally found each other. Of course they have.
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Still here. Still without airbrushing. Still with teeth.
