a girl without her best friend is like...

Who am I if not my best friend’s best friend?
My best friend is the loveliest person I know. If it weren’t for her I might have to admit the monster that I really am. I mean, who else would love me like she does?

She loves me even though I hate eating noises, and hearing people sing in the morning, and talking when I’m feeling grumpy (which is more often than not).
She loves me even though I yell at her boyfriend, and shed more than other girls, and don’t do the dishes, and wear her favorite brown stilettos.

It goes without saying that I adore her. I find her beautiful in every way; from her warm, elegant face to her hilarious, haphazard wit. I wish there were more people like her, but I’m glad that since there’s only one, she’s mine.

The problem is she’s hundreds of miles away.

And so I drink wine alone.
I write notes and stories and random ramblings that no one reads or critiques or cares about.
I buy new shoes that no one compliments, or tries on, or helps me coordinate with my entire wardrobe.
I tell jokes that no one gets, or finds amusing, or even hears.
I analyze my drama and no one giggles with me, or questions me, or prods me into deeper understanding.
And to be honest – life just isn’t anywhere near as much fun.
It turns out that in her absence, there is something vast and irreplaceable missing from my life.

And so, I find I am like a lazy afternoon without a good book; I'm like a warm, wide-brimmed mug without a hot, creamy coffee. And what on earth use is that?