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How To Survive Thirteen Years Of Friendship

We’ve always thought of ourselves as Yin and Yang type people, you with your unbreakable patience, willingness to see the good in others and well me a tad more on the cynical side. 

Your skort to my jeans, your cocktail to my pint.

Alas like puzzle pieces, we just fit. 

Laughing till we’re crying, crying till we’re laughing. 

From dancing and dress up at eight, to bevs and boogying at eighteen; I often wonder if we’ll be busting moves at 80 – hip replacements and all. 

Whilst not much has changed in thirteen years, we’ve swapped our commute from a fifteen minute walk to a two hour drive and £3 Aldi wine for a cheeky gin and lemonade.

I’d trade a lot to be sat in your garden, watching you unconsciously chain smoke, whilst claiming tipsy status from a single glass of vino. 

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