This is one of those happy/sad days that leaves my normally resolute self all twisted up in emotions.
I’m not a crier, chickens.
But sometimes, you’ve gotta give it up.
This is a post about saying goodbye.
My funny, beautiful, great friend JK is packing up her apartment and hitting the road for Seattle with her husband this weekend.
And even though I am beyond-words-happy for her new adventure on the Pacific Northwest Coast (and I’m coming as soon as I can), I can’t help the fact that I was born a selfish person.
And that I really just can’t believe she’s not going to be hanging out with me for nearly 60 hours a week anymore.
JK and I became friends as a result of being coworkers, and it was one of the best strokes of career luck (and life luck) that I’ve ever had.
The percentage of time I’ve spent laughing since I joined forces with JK is monumental, and she has honestly made all the moments I’ve spent with her a sunnier, lighter, better place.
She’s the kind of friend who always has the best advice, who will back you up until the end of time, and who will volunteer for a cocktail in your time of need.
And in the past five years, we’ve had our fair share of times of need.
But mostly we’ve had really good times.
We’ve attended countless happy hours together, completed a triathlon in lockstep, watched each other get married, met each others’ families, worked through projects, eaten pizza in a parking structure, purchased matching sweatshirts, and somewhere, along the way, become the kind of friends you know you’re always gonna have.
No matter how many miles happen to be between you.
And so, JK, in lieu of CJ’s amazing ability to address a crowd live or write a heartfelt poem on the fly, this is my toast to you.
There’s no one like you, and truth be told, I’d never want there to be.
Last week, when we climbed into the cab to head back to our respective apartments from the airport, I looked at JK and told her I’d just decided what I would miss most once she was gone.
“Getting into a cab at the end of the night and telling the driver ‘3 stops please’ with you and CJ.”
As you know from my previous posts, this is usually when the night’s energy tries to contain itself in a tiny space, and it generally ends with us laughing so hard our sides hurt and our cab driver wishes he’d maybe just cruised by us.
It’s sometimes the best fifteen minutes of the evening.
Last night we took our last cab ride together as residents of the same city. When I pointed this out to my pals, it resulted in perhaps the most tame drive of all time.
“I don’t like that,” CJ said.
“Maybe we can just drive by JK’s on our way home anyway,” I suggested.
We laughed, just a little.
I suspect, chickadees, that in this great big life of ours, the churn of change isn’t going to stop anytime soon. And so, I’d just like to say that the past couple of years, for better or for worse, has been a good moment in time for me. Thanks JK, for spinning your wheels with us for awhile- I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if you didn’t show up.
I can’t wait to climb into the next cab with you, buddy, no matter where it’s headed.