This photo was taken five months & one day ago. I can remember every single detail - how he smelled sitting next to me (sweet like cologne, sour like stale cigarettes), how his leg kept bumping against my own, how his laughter would send me off into a fit of my own. He was my best friend, the person I stayed up late texting, who kept me company every night until the sun came up. I didn’t realize then - like I do now - that he dedicates long hours of his day to sleep, that not resting is a character flaw of my own, not his; that the effort he made in staying awake to talk to me meant more than I could have understood, then. We whispered secrets over the bass line of our favorite songs and promised to never end up like them.
All this time later, and I’m curled up in his bed while he’s in the shower. Cricket is sprawled across my lap, rubbing her head against my cheek. I can slip off my sweatshirt & jeans, spread myself thin over his messy sheets like sweat, and know he’ll just smile down at me when he comes in. The places where we were best friends have covered the house we built of love like ivy - it’s what keeps us safe, keeps us sane.
He whispered quietly to me, in the early morning while we were whipping around the roads with no streetlights I’m in love with my best friend and she loves me back. How lucky am I? And we are. We are the luckiest people in the world.