I have a terrible memory. I don't remember places, events, occasions, or what I had for breakfast. But I'll never forget the day I finally met Kate.
Kate and I had been friends for years. More than friends, confidants. We first 'met' through a random social media DM slide, and connected over our mutual appreciation for science, and literature.
We had endured many similar struggles, something that we bonded over. Over many thousands of messages, we shared dark secrets, hilarious anecdotes, and uplifting encouragement.
That had started over three years ago. It turns out the Atlantic Ocean is a real bitch at coming between friends. Literally.
Transatlantic travel being what it is, and financial burdens being ever-present for so many people, the desire to visit Kate had been pushed further and further back over the years. Now, however, finally, the trip was happening, and I was giddy with excitement.
I had never travelled to the US before, and seeing as I had recently come into some money which made the trip possible, I had treated myself to a business class seat. Such luxury. I had never been so comfortable on any form of long-distance travel and made full use of every complimentary perk I could avail myself of.
Many hours later, I was standing on American soil. Baggage claim was its usual headache, but none of that mattered, as I made my way through to arrivals, and there she was. My friend. Waiting for me.
Friendships like this don't come along often, and seeing her now, in the flesh, was overwhelming. I dropped my luggage, and ran to her, finally giving her that massive hug I had promised her so many times. We stood in silence, breathing each other in. Eventually, I whispered, "It is so good to see you."
"You too," she murmured back, her face still buried in my shoulder.
An impatient cough behind us jerked us out of our moment as we realised we were blocking a fairly large section of the arrivals hall, and we composed ourselves quickly. Trying to avoid the miserable stares of multiple haggard passengers carrying 10 hours of cabin scum on them, I collected my bags and we left the airport.
The drive to Kate's place was peaceful. We chatted nonchalantly, mainly about the many interesting and bizarre people I had witnessed on the plane. I was drowsy. My body was telling me it was midnight, although the sun was telling me it was mid-afternoon.
I felt such a beautiful serenity wash over me as the car buzzed along the highway. A tranquil breeze came through the window, as Tracy Chapman's 'Fast Car' came out of the stereo.
The next thing I remember is Kate's hand gently nudging my leg, and as I woke up, seeing us pull into the driveway of what I could only presume was her apartment building. I rubbed my eyes, before getting out of the car, on the wrong side. She popped the trunk, as I believe the American expression goes, and I grabbed my suitcase.
Once inside, Kate looked me up and down and admitted, "You look wrecked, perhaps you should take a nap."
"Not a bad idea," I agreed, "but perhaps a shower first. Travel grime is a real and ever-present danger."
She showed me to the bathroom, fetched me a towel, and left me to it, although seeming to linger at the bathroom door just as I was unbuttoning my shirt. I told myself I had imagined it.
After a refreshingly cool shower, I changed into some grey sweatpants, and a light blue teeshirt, before joining Kate in the kitchen. I sat down at the breakfast bar and she slid a steaming cup of coffee towards me. I took a big sniff of the heady aroma, and then a deep swig of the hot brew. "Perfect!"
"I've made my bed up for you," Kate informed me.
"Why your bed?" I queried.
