I needed a friend today.

That’s not really true. I have friends. In fact, I have lots of friends.

I have friends I went to school with, friends I go to school with, and friends I met at school. I have math friends, physics friends, computer friends, and artsy friends. I have friends who come to me for advice and friends who are all, “Suck it, jerk”, because I gave them lousy advice.

I have funny friends, not-so-funny friends, and downright obnoxious friends. I have skinny friends and I have fat friends. I have friends who can laugh at my jokes, friends who can make me laugh, and friends who can laugh at me. I have friends who need me to tutor them, friends who need me to teach them, and friends who just plain need me.

But today I had a really fucked up day, y’know?

And what I needed, what I really needed, was a different kind of friend. The kind of friend you can call in the wee hours of the night to moan to about your totally fucked up life. A friend with whom you could sit with and not say a single word because they would know exactly what you were trying so hard not to say. A friend who would give you a hug, pat you on the back, and say, “It’ll be all right”, even though everybody else is screaming, “What a goddamn wuss.”

I had a couple of friends like that once. They’re not my friends anymore. Fucking shame because sometimes — just sometimes — I wish I had someone to go to.

And I realize that for all the shit I’ve done. All the awards I’ve won and all the respect I’ve garnered among colleagues and acquaintances, I still can’t find a friend like that.

But one of these days, I’m going to pay a therapist $250 an hour. And then I’ll have a friend.