|Everybody is doing it, and I find it adorable!! |
Bear with me if you hate this latest bloggy trend,
but here goes.
We'd arrive separately and, when we caught sight of each other, I'd be super awkward. ...because that's how I am. Like, Do I hug her? Do we shake hands? Hugging is instense, hand-shaking is a bit formal. Oh, crap. She's coming in for a hug. Okay. Okay. That was a weird, half-way sideways thing, but she seems happy with it. Cue *huge smiles* and awkward, breathy laughs.
We'd grab our coffees and pick a seat. Once settled in, we'd start with benign "So-how-have-you-been?"s,
and within minutes, you'd be telling me about this weird growth on your right big toe. How you haven't been to the doctor about it yet, but WebMD says it's either a harmless infection OR a fungus so severe that you've got about 48 hours to live.
I would laugh and be grossed out, but love that our friendship is like that. That we can share anything, even weird toe growths.
You'd ask me about James, and if we're ring shopping yet, and how things are going with my sister.
You'd jump in with advice, past experiences, your own love life at the moment. About that weird guy who just won't stop bugging you, and the perfect one who just needs to recognize that you're the love of his life already (!!).
I would 100% agree. That dude is creepy and that dude needs to get it together before he loses you!
We'd have to pause here, because my bladder is tiny and I need a trip to the Ladies'.
When I got back from the restroom, I'd recount for you the hilarious conversation I just overheard in the next stall over. We'd keep glancing over our shoulders to make sure I don't embarrass the gal, but seriously. Hilarious!!
We'd both gripe about how little motivation we have to work out and eat healthy, that we've noticed more wrinkles and less metabolism in the last year or so. You'd, of course, look awesome and I would hate you a little on the inside for not working out but still being super hot. Jerk.
I'd ask about your job search / new job / upcoming plans, and you'd share what you love, what you hate, what you're hoping for. We'd both express frustration that we're not millionaires by now, and that traveling to Europe is so stinking expensive. We'd then fantasize about a joint trip, just the two of us or in 15 years, when our kids are old enough to remember it. Where we'd go. What we'd eat. Who we'd meet.
It'd be about time for me to get on the road, either to check in with Hannah or get to work on time. You'd say you need to be heading out too. Maybe you brought your new baby with you, and I've been loving his rolly-polly thighs, and hate to surrender him back to the carrier.
We'll part with sadness, because even with our best intentions of "getting together again soon," we know life is busy and it will most likely be a while. We'll miss each other! And these moments of coffee and catching up are so cherished. It will probably be a year, maybe 2, before we actually grab coffee again, but we both know that makes no difference. Friendship isn't made in minutes, it's made in memories.
Au revoir, my dear friend.
Until next time.