"No, I love you!"

Sep 26, 2022

Good morning you autumnal lovelies.

A little over a week ago, I lost a dear friend. The dearest. She was diagnosed with cancer one month before me. But, I don’t want to talk about fucking cancer.

I just want to tell you about my friend.

She was the single worst waitress I’ve ever seen.
She had the deepest dimples and you’d take a picture of her - she’d smile sweetly and then you’d look at the picture later and see that she was flipping you off the whole time.
She was a glorious and whole hearted tryer.
She was rebellious, lionhearted and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone in charge had to say.
She sent notes and cards through the mail and would always sign off with, “I love you so.”
She was so fucking funny.
God, her laugh. She laughed with her whole body.
She dressed so cool. She would roll up in these deconstructed, effortless outfits and then you’d try to put together something similar and end up looking like someone threw a pile of old clothes on you. But then she’d tell you how beautiful you looked. And made you believe it.
She was such a giant weirdo.
She SAW people. Not the version you wanted people to see, but the real you. She met you where you were… the Work in Progress, the Mess, the Figuring it Out You. And loved all of you - saw ALL of you.
She loved art. Her hunger for it was insatiable. Everything was interesting.
She made me feel safe.
I can hear her in my speech patterns. Some words and phrases will forever have her voice in their very fiber.
She believed you. She trusted you. She listened.
She was so fiercely and deeply loved.
We would walk to our cars after our monthly dinners and she would scream across the parking lot, “No, I love YOU!” and I would yell it back and so it would go until her little voice echoed through the night… “no, i love youuuuuuuuu” as she drove away, her little hand pointing at me out her car window.
In her final days, she sent me an audio message. She signed off - as she always did - by telling me she loved me. I’m so grateful I get to still hear her little, arch wisp of a voice.
She left this world better than she found it.
When we lived together in that little place on Diamond Avenue, we would listen to this one album a lot, and since then THIS song has always reminded me of her.

No links today. Instead, I beg you… tell your people you love them - hell, tell yourself you love you. What are we waiting for? Scream it across parking lots. Write it in cards. Laugh with your whole body. Be the biggest, most giantest weirdo you can be. Flip people off in pictures. Love big.

Because… no, my dearest friend. I will always love you.