Like Real People Do

It felt really good.

It felt right.

It fit.

Monica was not sure why it felt so amazing to be here in his arms. She wondered if it was simply a reaction to this protective cloak of true friendship that he wrapped her in, as he attempted to bring her back to life. It filled her with complete and utter content. This embrace that could only come from the kind of friendship that had been so elusive over the last few years of her life. The promise that someone was there with her in total solidarity, no matter what was to come, communicated to her through one of the best hugs she had ever received.

Perhaps it was finally finding a friend to hold her down to the earth while she wrestled with her own insecurities that allowed her to let loose with an authentic and serene smile as she nuzzled against him. As confident as she could be at times, there was still this constant battle she waged with herself through the years that always threatened to send her spiraling out into the atmosphere. Those moments were fleeting, but they were powerful, and they could lay her so low if left unchecked with no one able or willing to anchor her to the ground.

She always needed someone to hold her steady and in place in those moments when she was at the height of self-critical despair. She needed someone to show her that she was not some caricature of a person that could only be defined by her most abrasive attributes. She needed to know that she was not some phantom incapable of leaving a lasting impression on everyone she crossed paths with. Someone who would reassure her that she was seen and valued. Most of all, she needed someone she trusted to simply let her know that it was going to be all right. That she was not crazy or difficult or unappreciated. That she was not alone.

To her surprise, the person she needed came to her in the unlikeliest of forms. The boy who once called her fat and could not see who she was underneath all that extra weight was now a man who seemed to be the only person in her life who saw her for everything that she was. He accepted all of her, even the version of herself when she was at her worst, the one that so many others had rejected. Without being asked, or prompted, or told; he knew exactly what she needed. He made her feel like it was okay to be that person. He made her feel like it was okay to be herself.

He was unlike all the other people in her life, the ones who had sabotaged her with passive-aggressive criticisms and kept her self-doubt fat and well fed. People like her parents and her brother, who never seemed to be there for her when she required them the most. They were always much too busy with their own lives to recognize when she needed their help. Even the friends that she had assumed would be with her through any and all adversity were gone. Friends like Rachel who disappeared the moment they graduated high school, and Phoebe, who secretly moved out of the apartment in the dead of night like a thief. They were all incapable of offering her the salve that her spirit so desperately craved.

To finally have a friend that she could turn to for comfort in a way that she had never had before was indescribable. There were no words that could express how she felt right now as they held each other. Her smile and the peaceful expression on her face would have to be good enough.

The hug itself was perfect. He was just the right height for her. She could rest her head under his jawline and against his chest without fumbling to find a comfortable spot. When they embraced like this, the lower part of his cheek pressed gently against her forehead, giving her the soothing sensation of skin-on-skin. Her arms fit underneath his so precisely that she could run her hands along his back in the way she likes without impediment. His own arms felt strong yet gentle around her body, applying the optimum amount of pressure, like some protective bubble of human contact. His body felt warm, and he almost hummed when he breathed, which helped lull her into a deep sense of security. It was as if he were a big cat, purring and causing a series of vibrations inside her body that eased her own agitated breathing and calmed the rough waters of her troubled mind.

He was also not like other men, who would no doubt see this moment of intimacy as an open invitation to attempt to turn it into something sexual. She did not have to worry about wandering hands or his body pressing up against hers in an uncomfortable and suggestive way. He was quiet and still, and she could tell by the lack of tension in his body that he was not dwelling on the fact that she was naked underneath her towel. She knew his only intention was to pacify her with his simple platonic gesture. It brought her great delight to know that this person existed in the world for her. That she could rely on him to supply that physical closeness she sometimes requires without it becoming awkward. That she could tug on his collar, or run his tie between her fingers, or play with the fabric of his sleeve in order to sate some sensory input that she would unconsciously seek from time-to-time without it being misconstrued.

It was as if he was here on this earth for her, willing to be whatever she needed him to be. Funny, kind, sweet, supportive and reassuring yet also disarmingly sarcastic and blunt enough with the truth to keep her grounded. He was this imperfect man, who was her perfect friend. She knew that no matter who else came into their lives, and even if they drifted apart from time to time, they would always have this. They would always be each other's best friend.


Monica stepped into the bar and immediately noticed Chandler sitting at a table in the corner. He was slumped over, supporting his head with his hand as Joey talked to two women who were standing over him. He looked so miserable that she could not help but laugh. When he saw her, his eyes lit up and he quickly excused himself to meet her by the pool table.

"Thanks god you're here."

Monica looked past him and smirked. "What's the matter? Looks like you have a good thing going over there."

Chandler gestured incredulously with his arms and rolled his eyes. "I'm not even the funny one! I can't get a word in edgewise. I might as well be invisible. No one can see me as long as Joey is around."

"I saw you."

"Thanks." Chandler offered her a sarcastic smile which caused Monica to giggle as she playfully bumped her shoulder into his chest. He then adopted a more sympathetic expression as he looked back at his new roommate. "Oh, hey; I'm sorry. You kind of liked him though, right? This probably doesn't help make you feel any better."

"What?" Monica waved her hand dismissively in Joey's direction. "No. I am so over that. You don't want to know. Anyway, somebody already helped make me feel better."

Chandler looked around the bar as he wrinkled his brow. "You already meet someone?"

Monica shook her head and could only smirk at how obtuse he was. "Something like that."

Chandler looked back again and noticed that Joey and the two women he was seducing began to gather their things as they stepped away from the table. "Oh great, he's giving me the thumbs up."

"So?"

Chandler turned back to look at Monica and shook his head. "It means that they're going back to our apartment to have sex."

Monica pointed at Joey and looked up at Chandler with skeptical eyes. "The three of them?"

"Yeah. He said, and I quote, 'what are the rules about where I can have sex in the apartment, because I want to try out the kitchen counter'. I'm going to be up all night."

"Why don't you just sleep at my place. Phoebe's gone; I have a spare bedroom now."

"You don't have to do that."

Monica smiled as she grabbed his hand and swung it side-to-side as her eyes gleamed with excitement. "It'll be fun! I have a pair of Ross's pajamas you can borrow. We could make fudge and gossip all night! It'll be like a sleepover!"

Chandler pulled away and looked down at her apprehensively. "You know I'm not a thirteen-year-old girl, right?"

"Oh, we can put on some dumb action movie in the background so that it'll be a boy sleepover."

Chandler smiled and bounced on his feet. "Okay! Maybe we could rent Die Hard from the twenty-four-hour video store."

"Again?"

"If you want me to make fudge then I am going to need John McClane to balance everything out."

"Fine." Monica shook her head and then looked around. "Do you want to get a beer here or pick some up and go home?"

"We can go. I think my ego has been bruised enough. There's only so much rejection one-man can take before it stops being charming and it becomes sad."

Monica chuckled and grabbed his hand one more time as she led him towards the exit.

"Hey, uh, just maybe don't say anything about the fudge-making in front of Joey. I don't want him to get the wrong impression of me."

"I'm pretty sure living with you will do that anyway." Chandler frowned and shook his head. Monica flashed him a playful smile and gave him a quick hug. "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

She smiled once more as she turned around and led him out of the bar. It did not occur to her what it must have looked like to everyone else there who might have seen them leave. Two young, attractive people standing close together as they spoke, hugging and holding hands as they left together.

What they looked like was the furthest thing from her mind. The only thing that mattered to her was how it felt to be with her best friend.

It felt really good.

It felt right.

It fit.