Too Much To Ask

I miss having a “best” friend.

I have lots of friends. Good, good friends. A friend for all seasons.

But not a best friend.

Not the kind you call or text every day.

Not the kind you send memes, like penguin pebbles, to all day

Not the kind that comes to mind when I see two people strutting down the street arm-in-arm, tears of laughter streaming down their cheeks. Not that kind.

Not the very specific friend you reach for when you need a drink and a vent. The one that has your drink ordered by the time you arrive, the one who pulls out the bar stool, pats it, and says, “Whose car are we taking?”