This was written as response to a writing prompt on tumblr.
It was an accident. I do not think we meant to become best friends. We were thrown together by chance, and for months we tolerated the existence of each other with calm apathy.
And then came January and a snowstorm.
And even then we didn’t seek out each other’s friendship. We were just there. And I watched out for her and she for me, and when the storm had passed something had changed.
We were best friends.
We are each very different from each other. She’s more reserved while I’m loud and obnoxious. She’s dark and doesn’t give a crap while I don’t like to face my darkness. She loves country music and I can barely tolerate it.
We’re separated now by thousands of miles. We haven’t spoken for days except for chats and comments on Facebook, and I miss her. She went to a Rascal Flatts concert last night, and I found myself wishing that I could have gone, too, because she’s my best friend, and best friends spend time together.
To us, it was an accident, but God knew exactly what he was doing.