She's a good friend.

She runs to my car door first to give me a squeeze before loading her suitcase. 

She smiles and asks questions despite an exhausting three days of a best friend's wedding and little sleep.

She doesn't try too hard. She's not forced. She is an old soul.

5am on the one morning per year we lose an hour, she's just the same as she always is. 

A long car ride to the airport -- at 5am -- is delightful and full of bright conversation.

She's honest. She's gentle. She's a diamond. 

She's a good friend.