Today is my best friends birthday. I know that term sounds a bit juvenile but it is the only way I could ever possibly describe her. We worked out not long ago that we have known each other for 17 years. Frizzy hair, glasses, Spice Girl platform trainers, shiny Warehouse tops, braces, track suit bottoms with poppers down the side…we were a gorgeous pair (and luckily have no photos of this era!) Thankfully we have developed and blossomed during those 17 years!
We have been through exams, holidays, evil parents, crushes (of which we collectively had many, but never the same person), first loves, first *ahem* other things, my first day at uni after my boyfriend had split up with me the day before and first escapades abroad.
She was the first person I called when I got engaged. She was my one and only bridesmaid at my wedding because that was all I needed. She drove to and from her home, one and half hours away, the day I had given birth to Charlotte so she could see her before she went away for a few weeks. She was also the first person I called when I finally made the decision I couldn’t be with my ex any longer and she dropped everything so she could be with me. She didn’t even get embarrassed when I poured out my heart and cried in a pub that weekend.
We can talk about pretty much everything, although I’m rubbish at telling anyone what I’m feeling (ironic as I write a blog and happily spill the beans to all you guys!). And despite the many dubious decisions I have made over our time as best friends – mostly boy or fashion related – she has never said “I told you so” (even though she did), she has just offered a sympathetic ear, an escape route, a brilliant perspective on the situation or if all else fails…wine and cheese.
She is getting married this year and I absolutely, positively can’t wait to be at her side (or slightly behind her) as I get to be her bridesmaid and, if and when, babies come along I hope they love me as much as I know Charlotte loves her.
Happy birthday Rachel. Thank you for everything and here’s to a lifetime of dubious decisions, sleepovers and loads and loads of wine and cheese. Xxx