My friend Zoë taught me a long time ago that being a good friend means supporting someone even when inside you’re screaming, “What the fuck? Are you fucking insane?”
That happened to Zoë and me once. I made a very big decision, a decision about which Zoë had some very serious and well thought out concerns. She wrote it all down in a letter she gave me, a letter a still have. At the time, I was like, thanks for detailing why you’re not on board, pal.
I did it anyway.
And she was there for me the entire time. Even though she thought I was nuts, even though she was worried I was risking my life, even though it’s something she never would’ve considered for herself.
And when everything pretty much worked out, Zoë was the first to celebrate my accomplishments, the first to say I proved her wrong, the first show up at my door and take me to a spa.
Sweet Jesus, how the tables have turned.
In an exciting twist, Zoë joined the Army.
She's not kidding. I checked.
And so, while inside I’m screaming expletives, I’ve been taught that real friends support you when it’s not so easy, when they don’t understand and when they disagree. Real friends say, “Are you fucking sure?” and then get on board.
So that’s what I’m doing.
I support our troops, one in particular.