That's What Friends Are For

I’ve decided that another person in my life deserves an initial to stand for her name when I speak of her. Since moving to LNJ she has become my absolute bestest best friend in the world. We’ll be referring to her here as C. C is the one that I had a huge crush on that wasn’t returned. It’s all good now though. I have ratcheted down the romantic/lustful feelings for her, and we are just really good friends now (although she does have a very nice rack that is impossible not to admire on occasion). She’s also the one that went shopping with me on the Magnificent Mile, and one of the women that shared my appreciation of Diamond so it isn’t that I haven’t mentioned her here. I just hadn’t given her a “name” I suppose because too many times I’ve named people only to have them exit my life in such a short while that it makes me sorry I took the time to name them.

C understands so many of the things I tell her when I cry on her shoulder. She has been through the bad marriage thing, and the staying in the bad marriage too long thing too. She has been through the clandestine relationship thing, and the NSA FWB good times thing. She understands me. She is always there for me. She took me to lunch today so I could whine and bitch and moan and cry and snivel and just generally flounder around in my self-pity and grief. Now, would I be there for her in similar circumstances? You betcha! A while back, she called on a Saturday evening and asked if I was available for dinner so she could have a good pity party for herself, and of course I said yes. We went out. We ate too much. We complained about life, and I listened to her tale of woe. We laughed at the idiocy of life. She felt better, and I was honored that she chose me to listen and help her out.

It is great having a best friend like C. I can honestly say that I haven’t had a good close friend like C since my high school best friend and I lost track of one another some 25 years ago. That’s a long time not to have a bestest best friend, someone to confide in and tell your troubles to. For too long W stood in that role, and in some cases still does (remember me crying on his shoulder last week over BJ dumping me?), but I can’t, and shouldn’t, count on W to be there for me in that role any longer. In some ways BJ has stood in that role in the last year or more, and in some cases still does (I called him last weekend to cry on his shoulder about me dumping W), but I can’t, and shouldn’t, count on BJ to be there for me anymore. C couldn’t have come into my life at a better time than in the past year. She’s shared my ups and my downs without complaint. She’s there to support me when I need it, drive for me when I was healing, drag me out into the world when I’m tempted to become a recluse, and save me from becoming a bitter old woman. She is a single mom, just as I will be soon, and we will watch each others’ kids when needed and back each other up.

I am so grateful that at this time in my life, when I’m dealing with some really tough stuff, that I have a friend like C. What would I do without picking up the phone and hearing C say to me “Hey girlfriend! How ya’ doin’?” Little things can mean so much.