Sister From Another Mister

I’m back in Devon again after arriving here yesterday afternoon. Part of me wants to say it’s nice to be here, but I can’t really when I know it’s because my best friend is struggling so much. I empathise very much with how she feels at the moment, it’s an awful thing to go through and I’d love nothing more than to tell her that it’s a feeling that will disappear but I’ve yet to feel that myself. I miss my brother so much, every single day, and I don’t know how not to.

I’m back here to give her support, in whatever way she needs as well as help out with anything that her and her Dad may need during this time. I still don’t start work for another week so I’m happy to hang around for as long as they would like or need, but I want to be sure I don’t overstep or overstay.

I truly love Chloe, and I think my experience of living in London would have been very different if I hadn’t known her. We used to work together when I first moved here, which is how we initially got talking but our friendship was cemented while on a work night out as she stepped in to stop me getting in a fight with another girl in the toilets of the bar we were in. Shrug emoji. Since then that’s been a bit of a metaphor for our friendship, and I don’t know what I’d do without her sometimes.

It’s true that you probably couldn’t get two more different people: she’s brunette, I’m blonde. She’s cheery and chirpy and just wonderfully pleasant and I’m a grumpy, miserable bastard most of the time. She’s the Meredith Gray to my Christina Yang, and we just seem to balance each other out somehow. She’s my person, and she probably knows more about what’s going on in my life than I do at times.

She’s been there for me and supported me to the hilt this year, and nothing has ever been too much trouble. She’s been amazing and she’s seen me through some of the most horrible things possible, and when I was in hospital in March she barely left my side despite being monumentally irate with me. You know it’s true friendship when she’s fuming with you but still buys you the sweets she knows you’ve been craving without saying, and throws them at you saying “there you go, you cunt.” Love you too, CB.

So, like any decent best friend it’s my turn to return the kindness and of course it comes without hesitation. I’d do anything for her, and I hope more than anything I can give her a helping hand to get through this.

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