It’s the person you’ve known as long as you can remember having memories.
The one who holds your hair while you barf and tells you when those jeans make your butt look big.
She’s the same one who will say (in a non-embarrassing way) “You gotta little somethin’…” as she slides her forefinger across her face pretending to wipe her nose.
She’s the one waiting when you come out of a public restroom to ensure that you didn’t tuck your skirt into your spanx.
She’s the one who stays by you when you’re not worth staying by.
She’s the first one you call when something tragic or fantastic happens.
She encourages you to pray when you’d rather rant and take a deep breath when you wanna scream.
She believes in you when no one else does and tells you all the reasons why, even when you won’t listen.
She laughs when you act ridiculous and patiently answers every neurotic question you have about germs.
No matter how old you get and how much time passes, you always pick up right where you left off.
She’s your person.
Vi, thanks for being my person all these years. I’m so grateful.
Who’s your person?
I think friends like this are ready to step in the gap when needed; offer just their presence when words would be hollow; act without being called upon; stab us in the front(Oscar Wilde); walk beside when walking is damn hard; to laugh when we laugh; to cry when we cry; to suffer when we suffer; and to rejoice when we rejoice.