Everyone says it. Everyone knows they have the best best friends in the world. I would climb to the top of Everest and scream it to the whole world if I had the stamina of a professional mountain climber and a voice louder than a whisper. Since I don’t, I figured I’d write about it.

There are hundreds of songs that detail how hard the vocalist is to love. There’s this whole idea that if you amplify your flaws, someone will come by and tell you that all the things you dislike about yourself are what makes them love you—your little quirks become cute and endearing, and maybe you can’t carry a tune at all, but they love it when you scream-sing in the car.

But not all my flaws are little and quirky and things you want to be stuck with in a car for hours upon end. Some of them are exhausting, annoying, and honestly just painful to put up with. My best friends are great for a lot of reasons. They’re all incredibly funny, passionate and knowledgeable about things they care about, and have genuinely good hearts, but beyond that, they love me with a gentleness that I appreciate so much.

Thank you for taking my hands in yours, looking me dead in the eye, and telling me the truth.

I’m far from a realist. I get stuck in my own head every single day. If you let me, I would dwell on past mistakes and “what-ifs” until I drowned in a pseudo-reality I’d built for myself. Thank you for not letting me do that. Thank you for making me face reality head on and being honest with me, even when that honesty hurts.

Thank you for not letting me cry myself to sleep . . . alone.

Thanks for not knocking, for just coming in and crawling in bed next to me when you hear sobbing from the other side of my door. I know that the smallest things can break me down. I know that sometimes you don’t even know what’s wrong, because I can’t get it all out between the tears, but when I’m at that point where I’m using my shirt as a tissue and I have mascara down to my collarbones, thanks for not bowing out. I know I’ve taken hours of homework and Netflix and sleep from you. I’m grateful you don’t ever consider letting me deal with things alone.

Thank you for letting me watch the same movie over and over again.

I’ve been known to watch “He’s Just Not That Into You” three times in one day. I like to watch “The Notebook” and then quote my favorite scene through tears, (you know, the one where Noah starts screaming “I want you. I want all of you, forever”). I know you hate chick flicks. I know you have other things to do. I know my predisposition for poorly scripted Lifetime movies makes you cringe, but thanks for understanding that sometimes I just need a distraction. Thanks for eating mashed potatoes out of the same bowl as me and showing up with wine when I tell you we’re going to watch whatever Hugh Grant movie I can find on Netflix. I know you’re bored, but thanks for realizing how much these moments mean to me.

Thank you for staying up all night.

You’re tired. I know because I’m tired too, but thanks for staying up til sunrise just to talk with me. Thanks for letting me know I’m worth more than just the time that’s convenient for you. I’ve never been much for small talk, and the conversations we have are things I’ll cherish forever.

Thank you for forgiving me.

If I could take back the things I’ve said while angry, the times I haven’t listened carefully enough, the moments I used your real and valid problems to transition into a conversation about myself—I would. I have a lot to work on; my emotions often get the best of me and I know you pick your words so carefully sometimes because of it, only to have me come back speaking before I stop to think. Thanks for understanding and forgiving me with such grace every time.

Thanks for being the best, even when I’m not.