Love Letter to The Ones
Well all, I’m obviously home now, in case you missed the plethora of dog photos and randomness, and I just wanted to say, it’s as awesome as I thought it was going to be…and a bit more heartbreaking than I thought it would be.
The first week in Indiana, I spent my time at home starting to pack up my things in preparation for the move, and I’m not going to lie, the second or third night I was home, wasn’t a very good one. Reunions rarely go the way you expect, especially ones with your now ex. There’s literally no manual on how to exactly handle that situation. Well, there probably are, but most of them suggest completely stopping all contact, which isn’t exactly an option right now, nor would I want it to be.
At the deepest depth of my sorrow, I wasn’t sure it was going to ever get better that night, but one phone call…just one…proved otherwise.
In a roughly 3 minute-time span, I went from shrieking and bubbling in my car about God knows what to one of my dearest people over the phone…I was sure the world was over and there wasn’t a point anymore…to realizing just how fucking unbelievably amazing it was to exist, on that exact day, at that precise moment, through the pain and tears…somehow, the “Hey, just breathe for me…tell me what’s going on,” sentence, was all it took to help me see, I was no shit, the luckiest person alive right then and there, simply because she was talking to me, and I was not alone.
I’m not really sure how friends do it, work their magic, to help you see that yes, it is all worth it, but they do. Here’s my ode to them. (It’s basically a toast, so I’ll raise my coffee cup in the air in about ten minutes to finalize the sentiment.)
To the one who’s been there from basically the first moment you realized what your boobs were actually for, and helped you learn how to do your makeup so you could attempt to put those babies to work.
To the one whose house feels like yours, and their parents mean just as much to you as your own. And to the ones you just met, who seem like they’d been a part of your story the entire time.
To the ones who were always right all along, but never told you so afterwards.
To the ones you watch become mothers and fathers, the ones you watch raise their kids and you just can’t believe how proud you are, and how awesome that is, because you remember once going to an elementary school dance with them, thinking they were far too cool in school to be your friend, and now, here they were with legitimate tiny versions of themselves running around.
To the ones you know, no matter what you’ve broken, will help you clean up the mess, mouse poop in the attic and all.
To the ones who make you cry-laugh from just a single look during an awkward conversation with others, others who are most definitely not your people.
To the new ones who make you feel like enough, even when you don’t even know each other that well, they are willing to show you their aching parts, to let you know, again, you are not alone. The random check-ins and hellos, are everything.
To the ones who care about you, more than you even care about yourself, that’s a rare thing to find, and I once thought only dogs capable of…if it sounds like I’m comparing friends to dogs…well…I am.
To the ones who, when you’re with them, you constantly find yourself, sitting among them, just eating a shitty meal, or waiting in a line for something, shooting the shit and laughing…and thinking to yourself, this is all I’ll ever need, and knowing it to be true.
To the ones you can, without a doubt, pick their farts out in a room, even before you actually know they did it, by that look they give you that usually cements the fact that…“IT WAS YOUUUUU!!!” and still love them anyways.
To the ones who, define love so in a way that, the word isn’t good enough anymore.
Like, I love ice cream and highlighting powder…but when it comes to THE ONES (come on, you didn’t think there was JUST ONE out there did you), the word love just doesn’t cover it. It has been so romanticized that it usually just calls sexual partners and relationships to mind, ones that can end, can leave, can disappoint.
The Ones, they deserve something more, something more permanent, like a Sharpie on silk, that shit ain’t going nowhere. So, I won’t just say I love the Ones…I love because of them, they are not my world, they make up my world…and make it so ridiculously fun and worthwhile, it’s that much easier to get out of bed on some days.
I can’t wait to endure many more shitty situations I have coming in my life, because at my worst, The Ones are still here, more than likely making them the best moments because they are.