“Jay is sitting in the passenger’s seat,
hair pulled back, fingers heavy
and graceful with rings,
and it’s raining,
and I haven’t seen her in weeks,
and I’m laughing the way I only laugh with her,
and it’s like we were never away from each other at all.
Her iPod plays some song that makes
me cringe, and I drive her to
Wendy’s for an iced tea and French fries with barbecue sauce
because it’s her favorite.
What do you wanna do, she asks,
and I say I have no clue, because I don’t.
Because it doesn’t matter.
What I should say is,
I could sit and watch traffic with you
until the sun went down and still
consider it a day well spent. 
I could park the car in an empty A&P 
parking lot and take pictures of you
doing cartwheels, and that sounds like a good idea, actually, let’s do that.
Jay is sitting in the passenger’s seat,
like a permanent fixture, like my
favorite past time, and she’s 
telling me about school and what 
it’s like three states over, 
and I’m trying to listen but there’s too much love in the way 
and I don’t want to yell it at her.
If I did, it would sound like this:
You are the best person I’ve ever known.
You are my favorite.
I will always be here for you.
I never get sick of you.
I am always hoping you’re okay.
Thank you for existing so close
to me.
Thank you for being my person.
I love you better than anyone.”

—	Caitlyn Siehl, The Best Friend Poem