April 18, 2018:
She's had a rough week.
Difficult finals: the first two B's in her academic career, formerly 4.0. Her best friend isn't returning in the fall. Last night was mushrooms and weed with her roomie. Tonight it was pizza and weed and gin with me.
She's out cold on the couch.
I can tell she's alive 'cos her sweatshirt is moving.
Hasn't been the date I'd hoped for.
She's my friend. I'm glad she's safe. I'm glad she's asleep on my couch.
I'm glad she's in my life.