You knew I was sad. I'm not usually sad, but I was then, and you knew that. My grandma died. And my boyfriend didn't love me. And academics were gray. I came to you. You told me to lose my mind. To go crazy. Because, you said, I needed to. "Lose your mind. I'll help you find it again when you're ready." So I did. I didn't even realize that I did. It was a gradual thing, you know. Then one day I was officially a mess. I came to you. You told me what you know about me. I remember. Funny how best friends know me better than I know myself. Which is exactly how it should be. "Love you, Lex. Go be you."
Okay.
For you I will.
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