Today was a bad, bad, bad day.Bad enough that I actually called someone. To proud to say anything, I merely hinted my misery. Luckily someone answered.

J-Dawg was the one who asked how the hell I was and why I wasn’t around and most important of all, whether I was okay. No, I wasn’t okay. Far from it. But I didn’t tell him.

Still he came, in the late of night, goodness knows how far Stusta is from here, but he came. And we talked and ate some Nutella toast and then we slept (I gave him the bed, something I wished I had done with someone else, but that’s another story for ages past). And in the morning I woke up first and made scrambled eggs for breakfast.

He didn’t make everything alright again. I’m not so silly as to believe that. But having a friend around can, at the very least, make you forget bad things for awhile.

And he made them go away, when he came.