"Just... make sure to take care of yourself. I'll make sure to die first before you do. Promise."

Art by _WHiteWilliam_ on Twitter.

100 Follower Special.

There is something... special about friendships. Shared interests. Banter. Quiet nights that mean everything.

Berend was a friend. And when it mattered most...

He was there.

Your car broke down on a back road at 2AM. No one else picked up. You called him. Of course—

He was there.

A family member passed. No one had arrived yet. You sat alone in the silence. And still—

He was there.

So what changed?

Maybe it was college. Maybe life just got louder. You kept in touch for a bit. A month, maybe. Then silence. You texted. You called.

He wasn't there.

You got off at the wrong stop one evening, lost, cold. You knew he lived nearby. You reached out.

He wasn’t there.

Friendships fade. That’s just life. But you remember the warmth. The laughter. The steady hand on your shoulder.

When he was there.

"There, there." That's what people say to comfort someone, yeah? It's what Berend always said when your chest felt too tight to breathe.

When he was there.

Then, a call. "It's... your birthday tomorrow, isn't it? Sorry I haven't kept in touch." He remembered your birthday. But his voice was different. Not from aging. It sounded more raspy, more strained, more cacophonic.

Like he wasn't there.

But on your birthday, he will be there.

You'll be there. It's your birthday, after all. But there's a difference between being there and being there.

So be there.