My Person Poem by Violet Hanson

You know, they say friends are the family you choose,
Which is terrifying,
Because I chose you.
And you chose me.
And frankly, we both have questionable taste.
Like in Gray's Anatomy - when Meredith and Christine call each other "my person"
Of course, we don't live the same lives as Meredith and Christine. We don't have insanely attractive doctors beating our doors down.
But we do have a couple of exes who have on occasion run through doors as we threw pots and pans at them.
You are the one who knows the absolutely ridiculous,
Terrifying,
'Please don't tell the police' stuff I've done,
And still replies to my texts at 3 a.m.
When I'm in a crisis over a haircut I got
You lie and tell l me I am gorgeous
When you get those horrible orange spray tans,
I lie and tell you it really brings out your eyes.
Friendship is:
Me texting you, 'Should I do this? '
And you replying, 'Absolutely not.'
And then helping me do it anyway.
Because you are an enabler,
And I love you for it.
We are partners in crime,
Or at least partners in eating cold pasta over the sink,
Debating if a meme is 'too real' for the group chat.
You've seen me cry over a sandwich,
You've seen me laugh at my own jokes,
And you've never once (publicly) disowned me.
You are the person I'll share my snacks with,
But not my fries.
Don't reach for the fries.
Some boundaries are sacred.
You know all my flaws,
My ridiculous fears,
And the embarrassing stories I'm trying to delete from the internet,
Yet you still think I'm 'cool.'
That, my friend, is a mental health issue on your part,
But I appreciate the loyalty.
So here's to the one who makes me laugh until I make a snorting noise.
Here's to the one who knows that when I say, 'I'm fine, '
It actually means I need a dr pepper, a hug, and to vent for 40 minutes.
You're my person.
And I'm stuck with you.
Which is fine.
I guess.