This one is for the girls on the couch

You know who they are.

When you were a kid, she was the classmate who would come visit you when you got your tonsils out. Even if she was terrified of hospitals/needles/doctors, she would still show up, not minding that you couldn't really talk.

It's the best friend you called from the bathroom when you were trying to use a tampon for the first time and couldn't figure out where it was supposed to go and how it was supposed to feel if it's in the right spot.

And when you got to high school, she was the chick you could count on to come sit with you on the couch during parties when you felt totally shy and awkward, watching the world go by while the two of you passed a beer back and forth.

These are the girls who came over to your house when you called them crying so hard that they could barely make out what you were trying to tell them.

And they are the ones who hugged you tight while you cried and told them that your parents were getting divorced, and you both swore that you would never do this to your kids.

These are the wingmen who taught you how to drive stick, and held your hair out of the way while you barfed, and helped you hide the keg in the woods when the cops arrived to break up the party.

They were the only ones wiling to drive you over to that cute boy's neighborhood and cruise by his house casually at least three times in one afternoon hoping to "bump into him" in his driveway.

And they were the ones to drive you to your now ex-boyfriend's house to get your stuff back from that asshole.

You know who I am talking about.
And these girls - now women - are still a part of our lives.

Now that we are all grown up, they are the friends who can show up at your house with little to no notice. They don't care if the bathroom is clean, or if the dishes are done and it does not faze them in the least when there is an enormous pillow fort in the middle of the living room.

They will come in, carrying their own food and drinks, grab a pillow off the fort and throw it back on the couch, and make themselves at home.

If you are standing in the kitchen in your underpants, they won't notice, except to tell you what a nice ass you have on their way to get some ice out of the freezer. If you are out of ice, they will refill the ice cube tray and make a pot of tea instead.

If the toilet paper has run out, they know where to find another roll, and they know where you stash the maxi pads (because they also know you never got the hang of those tampons).

They are the ones you call when you are crying so hard they can't make out what you are saying, so they just hang up and drive over in their pajamas.

And they will hold you tight while you cry and tell them that you are getting divorced, and they will know that the reason you are so upset is that when you were a kid you swore you were never getting a divorce.

They are the bridesmaids and the godparents and the ones who know you have a living will, and they have solemnly sworn to pull the plug and put a pillow over your face if the doctor says there isn't any hope.

They take your call in the middle of meetings.
They pick you up from the airport at 2am.
They text you when you post a morose Facebook update, to make sure you are okay.
They give you weird gifts that no one else would like, but that you love.
They remember to bring kleenex when you go to a sad movie, and don't mind if you ugly cry during the whole second half.
They bring you food when you are sick, comfort when you are sad, and community when you are feeling all alone in this big world.

You have a song, a handshake, a catchphrase, and matching shirts that you bought separately and only discovered when you both wore them to the same party.

And they are always there for you. In good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, on the phone or in person or maybe on Skype because those international phone calls are pricey, man.

My point is, we all need someone.
A wingman. A cheerleader. A confidante. A partner in crime.

A girl on the couch.