The one person who knows everything about you.

And I mean everything.

Your last situationship. How it started. How long it took you to reply to that one ambiguous message because you both spent 45 minutes crafting the perfect response. The eight-hour voice note analysis. Your cycle. Your cravings. The kiwi you should not eat because it made you feel sick once in 2019.

They're the one you should never trust with directions, but somehow their confidence is so high you follow them anyway. Together, you can turn one random lyric into a full improvised ballad with harmonies. They ask why you haven't gone home yet, even though it's only been three weeks. They remember the friend who hurt you years ago, the one who made you feel weird for being yourself.

Most of your best memories have them in them.

The 50-minute walk in the middle of nowhere because your phone died and they refused to get an Uber. The night you both accidentally wore the same outfit and spent the evening pretending to be fraternal twins with different dads. The birthdays, festivals, house parties, brunches, bathroom pep talks, last-minute plans, post-date debriefs, dance floors, corner shop runs, and “how did we end up here?” nights.

Because the function is just not the same without them.

Your homegirl. Your ride or die.

You know how it is.