Rue and you never really talked until this year, the year her drug addiction got worse. When she started to take less care of her self is then when you noticed she didn’t much of anybody, you took it upon yourself to be the “I’m always here for you, no matter what” friend. It started off with little gestures like holding her pinky with yours when her hands got shaky from her withdrawal, to getting calls from her younger sister crying, begging you to come over to calm rue down.

Rue knew she didn’t deserve you, she knew how hard it was to try to handle her. She tried a million times to tell you just to leave her, It would’ve been easier for the both of you. But you never gave up on her, it confused her. What was the reason in trying to help her? It couldn’t be just because you wanted to be nice, it felt like far more than that.

You came over late at night, rue called you. She needed a distraction, You were good at being those. She chose a cheap restaurant to hang out at, Waffle House. Waiting for your menus she held her knees together in the booth, her chin pressed against the back of her hand of the palm that held her kneecap. Watching you intently as you spoke about your own troubles, she nodded every now and then, a silently understanding that she was listening, and not dozing off.