I'm Just Sayin'

Some friends are kindred souls.

From the moment you meet, something just clicks.

They say things you would say.

Do things you would do.

It would be weird if it wasn’t so nice.

M is one of those friends. The two of us worked together when we were young and inexperienced and naive. We got the jobs that nobody else wanted to do. We always got mad when people called us interns. We were temps, darnit!

We like the same kind of music. When M gets excited about a new artist, I get excited–even before I’ve heard them. We start fan clubs, of which we’re the only members. We are unsuccessful stalkers of famous people.

M is one of the most laid back people I’ve ever met. She doesn’t get ruffled. On a recent visit to Colorado, M and I ate Navajo tacos in a bus stop. Because we could. And she didn’t utter one complaint.

Did I mention that M is brilliant? She got her journalism degree from one of the top programs in the United States. She has a master’s in divinity from a prestigious university. She’s an editor of a successful magazine. And even though in the back of my mind I’m fully aware of M‘s intelligence, all I think about when we hang out is the fact that she makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts.

She doesn’t drop names. She never talks down to people. Even when she can.

We talk books, food, religion, travel and grammar.

She loves Jesus.

But she acknowledges her own doubts and fears. Which makes me want to tell her about my own.

I wish M was my neighbor. She’s the kind of person I would ask for a cup of sugar, even if I didn’t need one–just so I could hang out with her. When I hang out with her, my face hurts from smiling.

And my heart is full.