There she is. My human perfection, laying on my floor, staring at her phone with a smile on her face. She doesn't look at me once while I write this, she's too invested in whatever video is playing on her phone.
She's so small but so full of energy. She's always smiling, and when she's not, she's crying into my shoulder.
God, I love her. She's one of my very best friends. We've been through a lot together. I was there when she broke up with her awful boyfriend, I was there when said boyfriend spread rumors about her, I was there when she came out as pansexual.
Does she know that I'll always be there? Probably not. Does she know that I'll always love her? Most likely not. Does she know that I love her in more ways than one? Absolutely.
She's confused. I'm patient. As long as we stay friends, I don't care what happens.
As I'm writing this, she's sitting up and laughing. Her laugh is kind of obnoxious, but it's a part of her.
I can always count on her to be my fake girlfriend when creepy guys hit on me at school, and vice versa. Everyone says we'd make the perfect couple, and I agree with them.
Do I know that she won't always be there? Probably. Do I know that she won't always love me? Most likely. Do I know that she doesn't love me in more ways than one?
Absolutely.
But I love her anyway.
