You’re it for me. When something happens in my life, the first thing that I want to do is pick up the phone and tell you. It doesn’t even matter what that thing is. I will never be able to repay you for the countless hours you have spent listening to me complain and vent, for the bellyaches from laughter, for taking 3785 photos with me, and always snapping me back. I can never thank you enough for all the tears you’ve dried or caught on your shoulder, for all the times you made me laugh through good times and bad, and for just being there.
Being friends with me is not an easy task. I have a past that haunts me every single day, a past that has left me bruised, broken, and damaged. I can be loud and obnoxious and annoying. I can wear my emotions on my sleeve too much, or hold them down and hide them away. I can be needy, but I can always go days just needing space. I make mistakes – pretty big ones – and I’m not perfect. I am insecure, and that requires you to have to constantly remind me that you aren’t going anywhere. I am sorry that you are paying for the previous best friends, the ones who promised to never leave – and then left. Granted it was me who pushed away, and that’s also something I grapple with every day. It’s not easy or fun being friends with someone who battles Depression and Anxiety, I know it’s not. There are nights that are too dark, and it’s everything I can do to make it until the morning. But you are always my morning. You are always my rainbow after the storm. You don’t judge me for my music taste, or my weird habits. You don’t judge me for the craziness, or my random singing, or the fact that I’m a complete mess.
Here’s the truth: I would be dead if it weren’t for you. I have been no stranger to thoughts that try to kill me, to feelings that persuade me to take my life and ideations that try to convince me that it wouldn’t make a difference. Insecurity and Depression wrap me up tight, whispering in my ear that no one would really be too affected, everyone would be okay. There may be tears, but everyone would move on easily. You come in, like a damn knight, and battle my demons for me.
I hope you know what fucking National Treasure you are. You draw people in until they feel like they have known you forever. You have taught me that asking for a hug is not a sign of weakness and asking for help is not a sign of failure. You have touched countless hearts. Your spirit is contagious and your laugh is infectious. Your heart is gold, and so many people love you. You have a kind soul, an old soul, and a loving one.
I love you.
-‘dozen of girls’ ❤