He's my person

It was a very memorable scene from (I think) the second season of Grey's Anatomy. Cristina was trying to tell her fiancee Burke why it was so important that she tell her best friend Meredith about their engagement before they announced it. "She's my person!"

Burke doesn't get it. "And if Meredith doesn't approve, then what?"

Cristina is getting frustrated, trying to explain her relationship with Meredith, "This is not about approval! It's that telling her makes it real … If I murdered someone, she's the one I'd call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She's my person!"

That's how I feel about my best friend. He's been unavailable this week. We exchange emails, and he tried to call me Monday but got my voicemail, but he's been too busy to really talk to me. Jury duty, unrelenting pressure at work (he's worried about layoffs, too, plus he has a major presentation in Houston on Tuesday), family obligations (his daughters are both involved with band and one plays soccer, too). I believe they're celebrating his wife's birthday this weekend, too.

I understand that none of this can be helped. He takes his job and his family very seriously, and I admire that. I trust that if he could call me, he would. Next week will be better, I'm sure.

But it's hard because he's my person. I want to tell him about my niece's F in German. He's a good dad, he might have a few insights. I want to tell him about my run in with a coworker this morning. I want him to tell me what's up with his girls, to hear about his confidence level at work, to find out if they're all going to visit his mother-in-law in New Orleans for spring break ...

I'm not lonely. That's not what this feeling is. I don't want "company." Being around people who don't really get me just makes me feel more isolated. I want my person. And until he's available again, I must remember to not murder anyone in my home. After all, I have no one to help me drag the corpse across the livingroom floor.