Whoever the hell said a guy and a girl are never actually able to be best friends—because of feelings and yada yada—is full of shit, and is probably just jealous they don’t have an opposite gender BFF. There’s so many perks of having a guy best friend that maybe not everyone gets to understand, that only a lucky few are really able to grasp. So yeah, shout out to you for making all that shit possible.
First and foremost, thanks for always being there, to listen to me bitch about stuff I know you find pointless, and also for telling me that it’s pointless and still listening anyway. But more importantly, thanks for always giving it to me straight and for never beating around the bush when my female brain over analyzes to no end. Sometimes I just need someone to be dead honest with me, and it’s always you to help a girl out when I need a definitive opinion no matter what it’s in relation to, and I know I push your comfort zone 8 times out of 10. I vent about the boys in my life and you give me insight from the other side. Thanks for also, with every inch of your being, hating any and every guy that screws me over in the end. It’s much appreciated and I love you for it.
Thank you for always reminding me that I’m awesome and that no matter what happens you’ve got my back. It’s nice to know I have you to back me up when my drunken decisions urge me to start a bar fight for the hell of it. You’re always right there when I am in need of a high five or when I’m desperate for a good laugh, and more importantly to binge eat junk food and convince me that it’s totally okay; having a non-calorie counter around is a breath of fresh air every once in a while. Thank you for always taking my calls, even if I’m just mindlessly cooking dinner and just in the mood to talk about my latest watched Netflix series.
Thank you for never holding back with me. You’ve helped me through so much, and I appreciate you for always lifting me up when some douchebag tries to tear me down. I only hope I can do the same for you because, honestly, girls suck sometimes (*a lot of the time). I love that you come to me when you need to vent, and I love that I can help you just like you help me. And hey, if I have to slap a b**tch for you, you know what I’m capable of, so no need to worry.
Thank you for knowing me better than a lot of other people. Our gender being our only boundary, you still get me and, 75% of the time, you know what’s best for me. For the other 25%, I find myself either impressively inebriated or scarfing down chili fries post-gym upon your advice. Thanks for always treating me like family and watching over me when I make the 973 questionable decisions that I do in a given week. I love you, like anyone would love their best friend, and I basically don’t know what I would do without you (cheese alert, my bad).
So thanks for everything, and I’m sorry I don’t thank you as often as I should. Don’t ever change.
