“So like, are you guys together?”
This is the short hand of what transpires when people usually get to know Kat and me. To be fair, some of those times are when we’re walking Truffles (her adorable malti-poo) together, so I get that we cut a very couple-y frame (you buncha racists). It’s actually really funny, a mutual friend of ours wanted to set us up together. Kat still reminds me that the first time that we met I didn’t remember her. To this day I dispute this fact (I remembered her, I just didn’t acknowledge her) but that was the start to our relationship.
I ended up going to her apartment to study quite a lot, and our mutual love of all things Sour Patch had us snacking constantly and making runs down to the deli downstairs. After exams, we fell into this comfortable routine of just being together. There was this very understood sense of platonicism. Believe me, it’s not that Kat is unattractive, it’s quite the opposite actually. We just play off of each other really well, which is why a lot of people either think we’re a couple, or that we should be a couple. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I love her, but this is clear and definitive proof that a man and woman can be friends without all the sexual tension.
It’s funny, after everything that we’ve been through, which has been quite a lot, the thing that stands out the most is that she steadfastly sees the best in her friends. I can remember times when I’ve just been absolutely deflated, and she doesn’t judge she just sits there, listens, and then finds the one gleaming point of redemption in the shit sandwich that is my life at that moment, and then we laugh about it. All of this happens usually when we’re eating. Through thick and thin she’ll stick by you, and that’s something you don’t find every day. She’s also been the only girl friend that I’ve ever fought with and made up with, which consequently advanced my emotional maturity by about a decade.
I’ve talked to her about everything, and in turn so has she. We know way too much about each other, but I can’t really imagine New York without her. I remember all the places we’ve been together, things like her making me get my first pedicure, how I ruin all her diets by dragging her to Chipotle, and even getting the sales staff at Saks to make fun of how I pronounce designer brands. The city is still the city, but without Kat’s little vignettes, it doesn’t seem quite as interesting. That, and there’s nobody else who can keep tabs on my ever wandering lovelife. She’s as close as it gets to being the Wikipedia of my romantic endeavors, and as such I suffer endlessly for it.
As the sole straight male to be invited to her eventual bachelorette party, it’s not an honor that I take lightly. As it is your birthday Kat, this is my tiny gift to you (don’t worry the real one comes later) so you’re now an official character on the blog. I’ll see you when you get back.
Happy birthday my dear, the best is yet to come.