They would have chosen to sit by each other everyday if they could have.
And they would have baked all the pies and pumpkin deliciousness they wanted. Worn aprons and had floury hand prints all over their faces.
She knew everything to say at exactly the right moment, and she wasn't afraid, and she was kind. Not all unafraid people are kind. But not all kind people are unafraid. She was kind and unafraid. Those people don't come around too often.
And the other, she would smile this glorious, broken hallelujah because this friend was her's, and she wondered at all this fear she did not have.
They imagined doing everything together when they were apart. She'd talk to her in the laundry room and wish she was there on a walk, imagining the invisible footprints in the gravel trailing along with her's.
Sitting in cars together when the passenger seat sat empty.
Cleaning a room when it seemed too bare without the other.
Washing dishes. It helped to remember when they did that together.
And would just sit by a window, looking out, just thinking about each other.
And they prayed that their faith would not fail and the beauty of the happiness they shared when they were together would last till next time around. That the hard days, when they came, wouldn't leave a mark and be forgotten in the dreams between one day and the next.
She wished she could have said something better on the days when her texts came with sad faces. Wished the pitiful little letters on the screen would mean all they were supposed to when she read them.
They loved mountains and dogs with happy eyes. Prairies and rainy days.
They weren't afraid of the dark places in their hearts because they just knew there were no perfect people, and even if there were the flawed ones were always the ones worth loving anyways.
Todays were their favorite days.
On lonely days, when the world closed in too tight and they felt drained of good and kind and gentle things, they'd send a text and find out with glorious ecstasy they were thinking of each other at precisely the same moment.
And it quite filled up their hearts to bursting just sitting in one place and talking to each other.
Just plain and simple friends, with simple dreams and simple pleasures. But if you asked them, they'd be the most wonderful, the most real things about them when you heard them say them out loud.
It didn't take much to make them laugh. But they weren't ashamed of crying.
And the one, she'd write more real after a day with her.
They were all their own persons, with magic about them that was all there own.
But if you asked her, she would say the magic of her friend was the most magical of all magic that could ever be called magic in the world.