You flick on the kettle,
you know where the cup drawer is,
you don’t wait to be offered a coffee,
instead you offer me one.
You’re that friend.
The one who was there, even after the flurry of newborn congratulatory messages and visitors stopped.
The one who remembers important dates, I don’t mean my birthday, but the looming date my husband went back to work, and I was on my own for the first time.
The one who checked in even when I checked out a little, when my texts were few and far between and the fog was all consuming. You didn’t take it personally, you don’t know how much easier that made it.
The one who invited me anyway, even though you knew I’d probably say no.
The one who I’d describe as a pick-up-where-we-left-off kind of friend, even when my life has changed dramatically.
The one who knew when to make me laugh even when I didn’t want to, and when not to, because I didn’t want to.
The one who has been there for the highs as well the lows, how life would be less beautiful without you, how you’re a bit like family.
The one who leaves me with more energy than when you walk in.
The one whose face always understands, even if you don’t.
The one who doesn’t expect formalities, and a text out of the blue with a baby poo question is totally acceptable before ‘hey’ or ‘morning’.
The one who says ‘same’, and ‘me too’.
Who gets that I can be sad and completely in love, all at once.
I disappeared for a while, but you didn’t. I was always here, I just wasn’t sure how to be ‘me’.
Thanks for waiting, so I can be the same friend back to you.