I love friendships. I love my friends. Who else can you cry to and sit on the floor with, and unravel and become undone and let them see the wound that left you so raw you must open back up to the world again in order to heal?

I was attempting to repaint my toenails while at her house, but I kept breaking down into tears while doing so. She looked at me and said nothing. All she did was sit in front of me, grab the cotton and foil from my hands, and help me take off the nail polish. She rubbed acetone on my toes, peeled off the paint, and helped me pick out a new color. She hardly spoke but all I could hear is: “I love you. You can put your strength down. There is nothing you have to prove or show me. I see you just as you are and I love you all the same.” I thanked her for helping me with redoing my nails. I hope she heard: “I love you most. I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m glad I don’t know.”

I called a childhood friend who I hadn’t talked to in months. I had woken up crying again. I decided to call her. She heard me say hello and knew something was wrong, from the tone of my voice. She drove to my house just an hour later. I cried in her car and she held my hand. She didn’t play any music because asked her not to. She parked her car and held my hand while I cried. She said she loves me. She made me laugh. She said she loves me so much and that she is always just a call away. I heard: “Time will pass but I am still the friend you walked uphill with, and napped in my bed after school with. You can tell me where it hurts.” I said thank you when I left her car. I hope she heard: “You are my forever friend. I’m sorry I forgot for a while.”

My friend who I don’t know that well asked me if I wanted to go shopping. I said, yes, I’d love to. She picked me up and drove us around, asking where I wanted to go next. I wanted to hold her hand as we walked in the store. I am physically affectionate like that with my friends. I did not want to make her uncomfortable. But I hugged her so tightly when she dropped me off back at home. She rubbed circles on my back, and I heard: “I am learning to love you. Let me.” I thanked her for driving and told her to get home safe. I hope she heard: “I’m trying. And I already love you.”

I had not been able to sleep. I was afraid to be left alone. Do you know what it is like—to shake in pure terror, your body fighting the flesh that makes up its limbs? My dearest friend, my sister. They wrapped their arms around me, shaking flesh and all, cradling me in their lap. I asked them to sleep next to me on the couch in their living room. They said, “Of course. I will be right over here.” We lied down, the lights off and the blinds closed. I said, “Can you hold my hand?” My sister said, “Of course.” Our fingers interlocked and I remembered the days where we shared a bedroom, and they would leave their clothes all over the room and I would get annoyed and wish them death. I said, “Thank you. For letting me stay over.” I hope they hear: “I miss being a little girl with you. I wish I was a little nicer back then.” They said it again: “Of course.” I hear: “I could have been nicer, too. But I wasn’t. I am here, now, and so are you. We are making up for lost time. That is enough.”

TO MY FRIENDS THAT I WILL ONLY KNOW IN MEMORY,
TO MY FRIENDS THAT I HAVE KNOWN ALL MY LIFE,
TO MY FRIENDS THAT I HAVE YET TO MAKE:

I LOVE YOU AND I MISS YOU.

I LOOK FOR YOU IN EVERY PERSON I MEET,

AND YOU ARE IN EVERY PERSON I WILL BECOME.

I hope you hear: “Someone is thinking of you and you are not as alone as you feel.”

Take care,
Andre Kim Kessel