Tuesday, April 4, 2017

In case I die in a fiery crash and never get to tell you these things

Dear Kris,

Thanks for keeping me sane while I was sitting in a waiting room yesterday. In fact, thanks for all the times you stop what you're doing to keep me floating.

When Samantha came through the door after her check up smiling, that sense of relief on her face lifted the weight off of my own shoulders. When I sent you the text telling you she was out and we were going to eat you just cheered and went back to your day without missing a beat.

In fact, as long as we've known each other you've had this way of pushing or pulling me whichever way I needed to go without demanding.

You believed in me when even I thought I was crazy. You were my first fan and you cheered the loudest at my shows. In your own, quiet way, of course.

You told me time and again I needed to get sober, but you never walked out when I didn't.

When I did, I could sense your relief. I could also tell you were thinking, it's about damn time, dumbass. But you never said it.

You've cheered louder for my sobriety than you ever did at one of my shows.

And when Samantha was diagnosed, you became the virtual caretaker of her caretaker.

In between all of that, we've laughed so hard (I said hard) our faces hurt, the tears blinded us and we lost our ability to breathe.

What is more, you have become dear friends with the person who matters most to me. You've loved her every bit as much and every bit as passionately as you have loved me.

I don't say it enough, but everything you do and have done... it all matters. It is all noted. It is all so fucking appreciated.

Words are not nearly enough, but that's all I have.

You are the coolest person I know.

Other than me, of course.

I love you. Thank you for always having my back. Thank you for being my best friend.

Titty sprinkles!