I never before had anyone cry for me, which is why I reacted the way I did. The text you sent me (on that stupid holiday that I was convinced I no longer pertained to) touched me in a way that I will never forget for as along as I live. Life was shit, but the people in it were not. And while the rest of the world eventually moved on, you were the single person willing to wait. You have been so patient. And that has been the most important thing anyone has ever done for me.
Bad things that happen when we’re apart: you get sick, you can’t go to work, 97% of NASA can’t go to work, the Clippers get jerseys with sleeves, I spend too much money on coffee cause your Starbucks app is never there, my room gets too messy cause there is no one to fold my clothes, my legs get sore cause there is no one to drive me around, but most importantly, there is no nurse. I hope the universe learns its lesson and by this day next year, we will be no more than 4 hours and 15 minutes apart.
So I never called you back like I said I would but for the record, I paid a lot of fake money to get you that fake nurse. That is all I can afford right now but one day, on a birthday you’ll never expect, it will be a real nurse. A British nurse with a business degree from Oxford, who dances recreationally to the Harry Potter soundtrack, thinks the Newsroom is a good show (mostly because of Olivia Munn), and isn’t really into podcasts but will give it a try if the wait at Boiling Crab is too long. Whether it will be a female nurse, I can’t say.
Why we always have to be so far apart—I don’t know. Maybe so that I can finally learn to walk in heels and you can grow to appreciate me. Maybe so I can discover my own snooty and elite taste in music (without any interference) and you can grow to appreciate me. Just kidding. I’ve always screamed high society.
But in all seriousness, you went through L.A. traffic four times in one day because I wanted Baco Mercat. And I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason the 85% cacao industry is still in business. But most importantly, you know how to change a tire. I should never complain but I always do and you always listen and that’s why we are best friends (not because I’m expecting to mooch off of your imminent success and high-rise apartments).
And according to the misreadings of some very stupid people, I guess it’s Happy Birthday to me too cause 23 years ago today, I either crawled out of the same womb with you, or gave birth to you.
You had me at “you lost weight.” For every hippity hoppity hotel lobby with a photobooth, there is a hip hop rooftop bar playing top 20s from 2010. For every fourth grader that has a crush on a third grader, there is a fifth grader ready to destroy it. And then pay for it. For every guy trying to pay the check, there is a waitress that won’t let him. Where there is love there is hate and where there is drama there is Giordano. We are so good together but we are best when you are wearing a shirt with sleeves. We drink our lemonade sans alcohol and and never wake up when we say we are. When we first met I was fat and you were skinny. Thanks for teaching me that people change. If there is a 22-year-old that is making you feel uncomfortable, you know how to handle it. Or you won’t. Which is why I will. Until then, see you in 21st Century Foreign Policy! #ofcasc
I would like to believe that my dread then was for the human condition, but of course it was for me, because I wanted a baby and did not then have one and because I wanted to own the house that cost $1,000 a month to rent and because I had a hangover.
I’m excited that you’re excited for your Nalgene!