I was single for all of my 20s and half of my 30s, so Valentine’s Day will always make me think of my friends. (Just please don’t make me say ’Galentine’s Day.’) | Tag a bestie, duh. — Text reads: Be       st Fri     ends I send you a rambling voice note about how maybe I should try a different shade of brow tint this time / a little lighter / not so harsh / what do you think? / You know the passcode to my phone / and the name of that one guy I met on Bumble who cried about the movie Groundhog’s Day / and how much it hurt to leave Chicago / We’ve lost hours plotting paint colors / text replies / outfits / trips / what will happen on the next Insecure / what to do with our lives / “why are men?!” / who to trust / when to let go / You’re a soft place to land / a hard, wheezing laugh / the closest I’ll come to another sister / I used to think all of this in-between stuff was the intermission / the rest stops along the way / the amuse-bouche / the filler flowers / but lately I’ve come to realize that all of this small stuff is the stuff / this is it / the main event / the blue plate special / a million little drops of love that fill the whole cup