It seems self-indulgent. To tell stories of trips and boys and friends. When my friend is barely hanging on.
I could barely look at her today. She didn't want to look at me. We'd both start crying if we did. I don't know what to say. She doesn't want me to say anything.
She wants to keep her mind off of what's going on. I understand.
I reassured her of what she already knows. That I'm here for her. Always. Whenever.
I hope I have the strength to be the kind of friend she is to me.