To The Best Friends Who Get Wasted With Me

Certain drinks remind me of you. They’re our drinks. If I ever have one without you, I’ll send you a snap of the bottle to let you know that I wish you were there with me.

You’re the definition of drinking buddy. The person I can count on to tag along to any concert or bar. The person who is never going to turn down the opportunity for a good time.

Thank you for jumping right on board the second I send a text with the word ‘alcohol’ in it.

Thank you for never judging me when I need an escape from the stresses of life. For not thinking that I’m some kind of fuck up, just because I like to get wasted every once in a while. Just because I want to feel alive for a few hours.

Thank you for all of the shots you’ve bought me when I didn’t have any money left in my wallet. For all of the times you ran to the liquor store and bought a bottle because you knew I was coming over. 

Thank you for drinking whiskey with me, even though you hate the taste, so I never have to do it alone. Thank you for getting just as drunk as I do.

Thank you for finding the drunk me just as entertaining as the sober me. For enjoying when I start silly conversations with complete strangers and for laughing whenever I act tipsy — but always telling me to stop when I’ve had a little too much. 

Thank you for being my beer pong partner, even when you know I’m going to make our team lose. Thank you for sticking by my side, no matter how much you have to babysit me that night.

Thank you for all of the times you stayed sober and drove because I wanted to make bad decisions. For turning down the alcohol we both know you were dying to drink because you were nice enough to be the designated driver. 

Thank you for taking ten million selfies with me and for being nice enough not to upload any of the photos where I look like a mess — or for at least uploading my unattractive photos to Snapchat instead of Instagram, so that they’re gone by the time the liquor leaves our bodies. 

Thank you for filling me in on all the stupid things I did after blacking out. Thank you for letting me know if I was acting hysterical or acting like an asshole. 

Thank you for switching from party mode into loving mama/papa mode when I’ve had too much to drink and need someone to help me to the bathroom. For reminding me to drink water and to stuff my mouth with pizza so that I don’t have a killer hangover in the morning. 

And in the morning, when I’m hungover anyway, thank you for texting me to see how I’m doing. Thank you for actually giving a shit about me. 

Thank you for being the friend I can hang out with, whether I’m drunk or sober. The friend I know I’ll always have a hell of a good time with, no matter how much alcohol is in our systems.

Holly Riordan is the author of Lifeless Souls, available here.