I need to talk about a tree. Well, not really a tree, but a friend. Shit, I fucked that up – now I look like I have tree-friends, which I absolutely do not. No, I don’t. Nope. Promise.
This tree-friend probably has guessed who they are, but if not,
this is for you.
This may turn into some kind of long, emotional load of crap, but I have lots to say. Maybe it seems odd to you that I’m writing this publically, on my blog, but there’s even a reason for that. On this blog, I promised just one thing: I promised to be honest. And so, by writing this here, I hope you will know that whatever is coming next is coming direct from my heart [via my fingers and the internet] to you.
First of all, I’ll start with a thank you. I was just listening to
Army, by Ellie Goulding
and couldn’t help but think that this is exactly how I feel about you. You’re the one friend that, when I’ve really needed support, has given it to me. when I’ve fucked up, which is common enough, you’ve been there. You’ve let me cry at you; you’ve seen me broken, and you’ve seen me smile. You’ve offered your advice, and you’ve calmed me down when I have been in dark places. But the one true thing that you’ve done for me is be honest. when I’ve fucked something up, you’ve told me, rather than hiding it behind fake smiles and white lies.
Sure, we’ve had our fall-outs. we’ve both acted stupidly, I’m sure you’ll agree, because we’re human, and we know each other so well. We’ve gone without speaking for a total of about 12 months, on and off, fince we’ve become friends. Those months were the worst, because the one person who I knew I could trust suddenly wasn’t there. Each and every time, I started off angry, and then lonely, because I was alone without you. But each time, we worked things out and got back on track.
I wonder if our friendship means as much to you. Without sounding like a self-centred prick, I think maybe it does. I don’t think a bond that strong can be one-way, although I’m willing to be proved wrong if that’s the case. However cliché it sounds, you’re like a sister to me, and I know no one who has that same status in my mental catalogue of friends -true friends, that is.
I wanted to remind you of some of the fun times we’ve had together, because it just feels like the right thing to do. Remember the Rebecca Black sing-along?
Yeah, unfortunately, me too… I mean, your mum’s version of I Will Survive was, erm, interesting, and certainly unique. Or the version of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer where I waited so long for the first verse to start that I ended up waiting right to the end of the track, before I realised i’d missed my point to come in.
Or how about The grand Piano, when I had a go at The Wicked Witch Is Dead? If she’d heard that version of it, I think she would definitely have been dead, don’t you?
Or how about the cane wars, with our other mutural friend in a hotel five years ago? How young we were, and yet it seems such a short time ago now.
What’s the point of this? You’re probably asking that, and the answer? I wanted to tell you just how much I value you, and how much I need you. that, again, sounds so chiche, but I do – I need you. Sure, I wonder from time to time if you need me too, but I don’t ask, because I fear that if you say no, it will break me. We both kow that just a few years ago, I had a crush on you – just reading our text conversations from those times make me cringe now. I thin know, I love you, but as a sister; you know too much about me to be anything else.
I’ll finish this, again, with a thank you. You’e stood by me, through thick and thin, and you’ve taken the time to appreciate me for me. You haven’t given up on me when problems appeared, once I opened up and shared my flaws with you.