When he moves away, I'll cry.

A very good friend of mine quite recently had a bit to drink and let me know he was, basically, not feelin' the love from me. So, I've decided to honor him with a blog:

He knows when I'm upset even before I realize that I'm upset.

When I'm upset, he does little things to make me happy (like play music he knows I like).

Once, when I was doubled over in pain, he took me to the pharmacy to fill a prescription for me and did the whole, "Can't you see she's in pain? Hurry!" routine.

He barely knew me and followed me to a friend's house where I was dropping off my car, despite the fact that I took a wrong turn and pulled over to get my bearings right near a curious-looking fellow who he believed I was going to for drugs.

He has no qualms about eating something that has been near or in my children's mouths.

I can usually count on him to "come along for the ride" if I need to drive somewhere and don't want to go alone.

He carries heavy things for me. Even those "heavy" things that I probably could carry but don't really want to carry.

He is, by far, the funniest person I know.

He trusts me.

I can tell him exactly what I'm thinking or feeling all the time without fear of judgement or rejection.

We have both seen each other cry.

My extended family knows him ("But he's so tall..." - Guess what statement received this response--HA!)

He's important enough to me that I blogged about him. I hope Michael's not pissed that I've blogged about another man, my kids, the cat and the dog, but not him.