This gorgeous lady next to me is Bri, one of my best friends from college. We met by chance (though, there are no coincidences.. I hear you, Mom) by being next door neighbors in the shittiest freshman dorm of them all. She was a dance major, I was musical theatre. I kind of felt like the band geek that got to hang out with the cheerleader. We became friends rather quickly, but had no idea that the worst in both of us would bring us so much closer together come spring semester.
Once we found out what we had in common, we fed each other’s bad behaviors. We fasted together, we exercised together, we took an ungodly number of dunks trips (per day) for “meals.” We were sick and some might call our relationship pretty unhealthy, but I needed her. She was the first and only person I had who got me. She listened and never judged when everyone else would have.
After we both left school for treatment, putting states between us as it were, we continued to struggle together via phone. We both wanted to recover. There were plenty of late-night phone calls where one of us was just sobbing over the phone. It seemed we were always in the opposite position, too; when I was doing fairly well with recovery, she was having the hardest time and vice versa. It flip-flopped a number of times. But every time we spoke, I would always tell her, “One day, we’re going to be sitting in a restaurant together looking back on this as only a memory.” I was determined to eat a meal with her with no other voices, no other urges, just a normal, pleasant meal. The last time I told her that was when she came to visit me on Alcott in November 2oo7.
Two days ago, Bri and I met up at Applebee’s while she was home for Christmas. The picture above is a picture of two beautiful, healthy girls after a meal way larger than a loaf of French bread. Life is good. <3