You have friends and you have better friends. Most importantly though, you have core friends.
They laugh with me the way my sister and I giggle till our abs ache; have witnessed, first hand, streams of tears when my feelings are disregarded. Core friends understand my tough exterior is merely that, an exterior, and their reaction to the vinyl wall quote I hold up in the middle of a Target isle at 8:00 on a Tuesday night asking, "how do you feel about this?" is "not bad... well, the beige bothers me." I put it back on the rack. Not because she didn't like it but because she inconceivably pin-pointed the reason I just wasn't sold on the vinyl quote. It was all the beige.
I once read that a woman should never have a 'best' friend. Friends should not be ordered, for each serves a unique purpose in life. I do however, recognize that fact that I have core friends. We talk about our lives together. There are many 'when we have children, promise me we will do that with them' and even more 'tell me right now our husbands will be friends, too.' That promise was made. Those men have no choice, now. That's the best part about it though: we'll wait for those men. For that time. For our time.
There will come a day when we will pick up the phone to a screaming voice saying, I'm engaged, and another day it will be, I'm pregnant. We will celebrate the happiness of our friends. We'll drool over diamonds. They will hold me together when I walk down that isle and I will, without question, reciprocate. There will be afternoons where we'll rub growing bellies and find humor in the bellybutton poking out.We will love one another's children as if they are our own. We will kiss them and hold them and love them and celebrate them. We will celebrate.
There will be days where we look into the eyes of these God sent woman and say I can't do it. I will hold them with no intention of letting go. Only then, when they find the strength within themselves to keep going, I will unwrap my arms but never will I let go of their hand. I wish I could say that we will never have days or weeks or even months where we feel that monkey jumping on our back. The weight on our shoulders that is too heavy to carry alone. Times where we feel like we just can't. At 20-something-years-old, there will be those times. The sun will rise again and we will celebrate. Celebrate another victory; an obstacle overcome.
We will celebrate with pink drinks in fancy glasses, high heels and the unspoken admiration for one another.
We will celebrate.
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