Thankful for amazing friends who truly “get it.”
This guy knows me– the good, the bad, and the downright crazy– and calls me his friend anyway. I don’t have to put on a mask nor try to justify myself at every turn.
Whether sending me memes or bringing me roses from his garden, he is always there to remind me why life is worth fighting so hard to live.
In many ways, we’re very different but in the ways that matter, we are eerily similar. He knows firsthand what it’s like to live in a broken body and is always up to commiserate. Our conversations are never dull, and we never run out of things to discuss.
He understands that social interaction is exhausting sometimes and doesn’t get upset when I don’t text back for days on end. He meets my absence only with care and concern, letting me know he gets it and is excited when he finally does hear from me.
We roast each other nonstop. An outsider might think we hate each other. Or that we’re a married couple. Or perhaps both.
He is one of the very few I look forward to seeing, even on days where I feel like crap mentally and physically, because I know I can just be. He reminds me that he loves me the same on my bad days and somehow manages to make such days a few shades brighter. I always leave our interactions better off than I came.
He makes sure we stop for rest breaks on long treks up the hills and doesn’t make me feel self conscious about the need to do so. Even though he pokes fun, he understands my hatred for stairs.
He gives me props where they are due, but isn’t afraid to call me on my shit and hold me accountable.
He appreciates my weirdness and is always down to hear of my crazy misadventures. He shares his stories, too, not bothering to hide the fact that he is just as quirky. We know that we don’t have to hide our flaws and struggles from one another, but instead are a team in the brokenness. One of our many unspoken understandings.
He is an endless fountain of encouragement, compassion, and really, really bad humor.
Thank you, Justin, for being you.. ❤