You know her. You love her. You’re clearly not getting rid of her, no matter how many times you send her Zillow links featuring sick condos on the opposite side of the country. (“Wouldn’t it be sooo crazy if you moved to Miami?”)
She’s your friend by default, and she’s, like, fine.
It started at your sister’s coworker’s cousin’s bachelorette weekend. You locked eyes over a tacky bottomless mimosa bar and immediately identified each other as the only semi-normal adult women in attendance. Three sloppy nights and a dozen Instagram DMs later, and you’re trapped in the cycle of catching up on a semi-monthly basis even though you have literally nothing in common.
But making new friends is hard, and you’re busy, and all the really cool friends have already been claimed. It’s time to make things official. Behold: A romantic template to help you commit to spending the rest of your lives together. Awesome. Yay. Can’t wait.
My Sweet [Her Name],
The last three years have been the best years of my life. To be clear, that’s because I adopted my cat, Wingding, three years ago — but it’s… also awesome that I’ve known you during that time. I guess. Kween!
Our bond is unlike any other. We’ve built an incredibly strong foundation by responding to roughly 12% of the Instagram reels we send each other and ignoring the rest. Oh, good, you just sent me another vid of a tortoise doing something weird. Keep ‘em coming, girl.
[Her name], there are so many things I admire about you — like the way you’re always sticking up for your younger sister. Actually, she seems like someone I’d really enjoy hanging out with. Could you maybe put us in touch?
Oh, and I *love* all of our little inside jokes, like that one quote from Parks and Rec that we whip out when we run out of things to say during the first 15 minutes of spending time together. Parks and Rec sure is a great show, huh? It’s so cool that we have both seen that show, along with several other shows.
For these reasons and more, I vow to spend the rest of my life with you. Specifically, I vow to continue this little charade of promising to get together soon when we both know that is absolutely not happening.
I also vow to always comment “sLaAaAy” when you post selfies to the grid — even if you’re flashing that sharklike smile that is honestly a little chilling.
I vow to tack on a few cents when I send a Venmo request for that spinach dip we split because, hey, what are you gonna do, fact-check me?
I vow to hit the shitter any time our conversations veer anywhere near the geopolitical space, mostly because you wear a lot of tailored button-downs and your allegiances are frankly unclear.
I vow to plan a girls’ trip with you because we’re both too polite to decline. I vow to spend the trip browsing kitschy gift shops and holding up wretched little snow globes featuring two frogs kissing. I vow to screech, “So cute!” to which you’ll reply, “Oh my god, so cute.” I vow to take the middle seat on the flight home, and I vow to assume the brace position if our flight crashes, and I vow to spend my final moments wondering how I’ve managed to waste the final years of my twenties attempting to cobble together a friendship with someone who thinks Jackass 2 is “kind of weird, idk.”
I vow to forget your middle name — now, forever, and until death do we part.