yours {h.s.} | {b1.5}

APRIL 21, 2020

April 21, 2020

Gracie called me tonight. Was on call, she was at home. On the verge of a mental breakdown, as soon as I answered I could hear her opening the tequila. Her breathing was erratic and I was nervous that something was wrong. Only, I didn't know what to do. I kept asking her what was happening and she kept waving me off, saying that she needed to be drunk. I was in the on call room by myself so I didn't mind waiting. Hell, even if I was in a surgery I don't think I would mind waiting. It's Gracie, after all.

Once tipsy, she explained her situation to me: Will had told her that he loved her and she told him "that sounds wonderful."

Immediately, I identified with her. "Love" wasn't one of those words that either of us was comfortable saying. Neither of us heard it frequently in our youths. For that very reason, I've insisted on frequently reminding my sisters and I've gotten better at saying it, but, it still feels unnatural being said to me. I could understand her hesitation in voicing the words back.

I asked her if she loved him.

She said yes.

I asked if she was certain.

She said yes.

So, I knew what to do. I sat up in the bed and I just said to her, "I love you, Gracie." It felt weird coming off of my tongue, and my voice kind of hitched on the l-word. She noticed. "Try it again," she immediately instructed me, giving me notes on how I could improve on the natural sounding way of performing the word. I took her criticism. "I love you, Gracie." I said again. "But now you're saying it too fast. You want to say it like you have all the time in the world." "I love you, Gracie." "Now that's too slow! I could die before you finish." "I love you, Gracie." "Good pacing, but now it just sounds like you don't mean it. You've said the same thing four times." "Why don't you give it a try then if you're so smart?" I said, not offended in the slightest. She was up to the challenge. "I l-love you." "I think it would be productive if you could get the word out in one fluid go." "I love you." "Please God don't sing it to him." On and on we went. For hours. After the first couple of tries, we proceeded to find the most outrageous ways to say the words, insistent on making the other laugh. The more I said it, the more I could tell that she was losing her tension. She was becoming more comfortable with the idea. My job as the best friend is complete.