A Friend Must Be Defined in Relation to Someone Else

As a friend

I am

not the one who stays up

until 5 am

drinking and dancing

(not any more, I get rotten heartburn, you see, and have already, I think, used up my lifetime quota of sleepless nights)

I am

the one who will make you sweet tea

the next day

and say

- Ocht, no, I’m sure you were fine

if you were as hammered as that, probably everyone else was too, and

nobody’ll remember anyway -

I am

the one who likes to dig

into the gunge and grime of who we are and how we feel

I can be a bit

i n t e n s e

I will be there at your mother’s funeral

I will help you tidy your home when it gets too messy

but won’t clean the corners (I hate cleaning)

I carry an extra £1 for the locker when we go swimming, because you always forget yours, but

I might forget your birthday – I am so bad with dates, they fall off the edge of the calendar

I won’t drive to see you if I have to parallel park

I will take the bus, so I will have to leave earlier

or I’ll take a long walk with you

but we won’t go on holiday together

I’ll mind your babies

but not your puppy

and I probably will remember that night you're talking about, when you got your arse out – but I’ll pretend that I don’t

or I’ll say – ah, sure, it’s a lovely arse, so don’t worry about it

I won’t shop with you unless it’s for stationery or snack food, or tattoos

I will listen to you talk about problems, ideas, relationships, children – but never philosophy – it gives me irrational rage, like doing Pilates or pointing at things with a stick

I’ll say - let’s not give each other birthday presents, let’s spend time together instead

because, you see, I can’t be that friend without - you