I’m a lucky girl, to have a friend like him.
He’s one of the very best. We get busy and we don’t always talk as much as we should. But, we always talk. We don’t hold back, we don’t keep secrets, we tell each other the truth.
He’s open, he’s giving, I can trust him.
He’s busy, we are all busy, but his is a different kind of busy. Aside from the 2-3 jobs he works, he’s got a house, a girlfriend, and a family. His mother is sick; cancer. He looks out for them, for his parents. He worries about his sister. He takes care of the family dog when his mom is in the hospital. He doesn’t work bankers hours, so he’s always doing something.
Then, I call him.
I say: I need a friend, a hug, and a drink, not necessarily in that order.
He said: I can’t today, but I will make it work tomorrow.
He started his day at 6:30 am. He got off work after 9:00 pm. He drove straight to my house and hugged me in the driveway. I wanted to cry, I was so happy to see him.
We sat on the back porch, we drank beers and he let me vent. I told him the whole story. I told him everything. He said, “you’re right, that absolutely sucks.”
He’s one of those rare men who can listen to a problem and not need to try and fix it. He just…listened. Sympathized. Supported.
He told me not to worry. He said I’d be okay. He said I’m strong enough to take anything that comes my way. He said I’ll be stronger still when I get through this.
We let the mosquitoes chase us indoors and we sat on my 3-season porch. To this day he remains the only person with whom I’ve ever used that stupid room. We’ve sat out there twice.
We talked about him. We talked about how he’s so strong for everyone else. I reassured him that if HE needs someone, I’m always here. He smiled at me and said he knows that.
I thought about how comfortable it is. Him and me. We’re never awkward. There’s never a silence to fill. We just talk. He’s like the very best girlfriend in the world, but he’s a boy.
We were talking in the kitchen. He looked around and said, “really, Liv, do your dishes.” I laughed. My house is a disaster. I didn’t even care. He didn’t either, he just likes poking fun at me. (I’ll do them, tonight. I promise.)
Then, he hugged me again. Just because he knew I needed it. He started to pull back and I hugged him tighter and said, “nope, I’m not done”. He chuckled and just kept hugging me. No one in the world hugs like him. He’s the very best at it. And of all the things he does well, it’s the thing he does best.
He stayed way too late and we drank way too much for a random Tuesday night. But, for the first time in weeks, when I woke up this morning, I felt good. Hungover and exhausted, but good.
I’m not myself yet. I’m not yet okay. But I’m better. An evening with one of my very best friends can do that.