Friends as Family

I miss Alison more than I can say. I miss being able to depend on someone, ask them to give meds to my cat or drive me to the airport or make me grilled cheese when I'm sick or listen to me spiral down a black hole over a boy.

When I moved back to Seattle, I naively thought I could continue building the life I had in Philadelphia. I have friends here but that's just it: they are friends. Alison has become family. Someone who I don't have to hide my foul moods from or feel guilty when I ask for a favor. I miss that feeling of Alison having my back. She's there for me as much as she can be by phone and e-mail and occasional visit but it's not the same. She understood that when I decided to move. It's taken me two painful years to fully grasp the implications of my cross-country relocation. I don't regret the move—I'm building a nice life here now—but I live without the feeling of security I had every time Alison fell asleep on my floor or met me at the gym for a half-assed workout or cracked me up over a BLT at Zeke's.

Good thing for me that I'm visiting her (and get to meet her boyfriend at long last!) in August and she's making the trek out here in September.