It usually hits me at night, like most things. I'll be downstairs shooting pool and it'll hit me, and I'll nearly drop my cue. I'll be out on my swing and it'll hit me, and my swing will coast to a stop. Or I'll be reading a book and it'll hit me, and I'll read the same paragraph a dozen times.
I am so incredibly blessed. That realization hits me, and I can think of nothing else.
It might seem like an odd thing, to have a best friend that you've never even met. I suppose it seemed odd to me, back when I first found her. She has become such an integral part of my life, but if I saw her walking down the street I might not even know her. If I spoke to her on the phone it might take me a few seconds to recognize her voice.
It might seem like an odd thing, but it doesn't. Not to me. To me it's as natural as breathing. And just as involuntary.
Three years ago today, that's when I found her.
Just got an email from her.
Told her that I'm trying to write this entry, for our anniversary, but that I'm experiencing writer's block.
I think the problem is that nothing I could ever possibly write would be enough. Not enough to even come close to describing how important she is to me. I don't have the words, and even if I did, I don't think I have the strength to put those words together.
I know that whatever I write will fall short of the mark. Trivialize the emotions. Marginalize the gratitude that I feel when I think about her being in my life.
I needed something, three years ago. I needed it so badly that I was dying from the lack of it. And she gave it to me.
Not pity, or doubt, or advice. She didn't try to rationalize what I was going through, and she didn't try to make it all better, and she didn't judge, and she didn't mock.
And I went from feeling completely alone in this world, to having an ally. A kindred spirit I called her. And that knowledge, that wonderful knowledge that I wasn't alone, that I wasn't a freak, that I wasn't any of the things I'd been labeled as...
I began to heal, three years ago on this day. I stopped waiting to die, and began struggling to live, three years ago on this day.
Sometimes I think that we take each other for granted.
I relish those thoughts, because they're absolutely true. We take each other for granted because that's exactly what we are.
We will always be friends. We will always be there for each other.
We are granted to each other.
Happy anniversary, my dearest friend Teri.