zatturday.
“will you always be my friend?”
she asked with an unsaid “no matter what, no matter how many times i lose my temper, no matter how many times you get sick of me, no matter how many times i get sick of you.”
i didnt even need to think about it.
my answer came as quickly and as surely as a sinking ship.
i realised at that point, that it wasnt just another question friends ask each other to seem sentimental or fill silences.
there was a slight desperation, a fear of loss.
i dont understand why she was afraid, but im not.
and i meant what i said.
“of course.”
