If we were best friends

Boden top (option, option, turtleneck option); Target skirt (option); bag (option); scarf, and shoes (option); Legacy fleece tights. 

I would invite you over to dinner, and cook your kids chicken nuggets and talk to them like they are my own, just like you would do for me. We would sit in the chaos of all of our children, and try to have conversations that aren’t interrupted, and love every minute of it.

I would let you know that you should never clean, or put real clothes on before I come over to your house. Ever.

I may text you back right away, or three days from now. And you won’t care.

I may have to be dragged out kicking and screaming for social events, but I’ll always enjoy it once I’m there. And be grateful that you made me go.

I’ll call you every day at 9:04am after I drop my kids off at school, and mostly always talk while we are both driving, because that’s what we do.

We’ll also text five hundred times a day, and talk multiple times, but truly have nothing of real substance to talk about. It’s the connection that counts, right?

I’ll curl my hair daily with a curling iron I accidentally stole from you in college, and wonder how on earth it still works.

You’ll know that while I’m not great at doing social functions and things that involve groups, but I will drop everything to help you. No questions asked.

I’ll never judge you, and back you up no matter what. 

I’ll feel secure knowing that you know my whole story, and never have to go back and explain anything from my past. Because you already know.

I can be my super introverted, forgetful, lazy, cranky self, and you’ll still love me. And I you.

You can know that I am awesome at emergencies, and will be your calm in a storm. 

We’ll go years without seeing each other’s faces, and always, always, go back to the last moment we were together.

You’ll be my rock, and my reason for being sane. And I’ll love you forever.