This is supposed to be a writing prompt to get my mind going. Since I hadn’t written in a bit, I thought I would write it here.

The writing prompt asks what is my favorite lyric and why?

Hard to pinpoint my favorite lyric – but this one replays in my head countless times:

“I owe my life to the people that I love.” – “In or Out” from the album “Imperfectly” – Ani Difranco.

First thought coming to mind, a friend of mine from Minnesota helped me move into one of my quirky apartments. It was a studio, perfect for me at the time. It was a hot, humid day, of course; summertime in Minnesota. When I first saw the apartment, the person living there either had an air conditioner going or it was a cooler day. My senses were not alerted by it at that time.

We set everything down after 10pm that night and I was like “I can’t breathe.” The air was thick like you could pluck the particles out of the air. They just marinated there, waiting for me to choke on them.

My friend looked at me and without a beat says, “Off to Walmart.” They were open until midnight, the Bloomington one only. I was just hoping they still had one.

My friend, Amy, she is about the strongest woman physically I have ever met, not downplaying her strength emotionally and spiritually by no means. Together – better watch out. She can move cars with her legs. They were built like trees. We were kind of a funny pair – and I think she felt protective over me, maybe just her physicality alone.

I needed her arms to get the air conditioner in place. She knew that.

We were able to snatch the right size and drove right back to my place. We, mostly her, installed it close 1 a.m. The best. I could not have done that alone.

I cranked it and beautiful cool air came out and I took a deep breath in. I believe we were enjoying a nice cold beer at the time – because you have to have a nice cold one in that damn Minnesota heat.

Then, I seem to remember that my car had gotten towed a few times. Various reasons of course. Sometimes my fault, sometimes not.

I believe a few of my friends heard my charming tone, but usually quite late as well, “Hi, whatcha doing?” which equated to –

“You got towed again didn’t you?”

“How did you know??”

There was the gigantic Minneapolis towing place that took checks and cost $150, plus my parking ticket I must pay at a later note – cannot forget that.

Then, the ultra-evil smaller towing place that accepted cash only, $200.

One late night, Amy and I went to the ultra-evil establishment, this was my first time being towed by them.

“We only take cash. There is a cash machine right there.”

I put my card in, they are out of cash.

“Are you kidding me?” I threw a pen at the bullet proof window, not my best moment. Amy said, “Let’s go.”

I had class in the morning, and these kind of shenanigans I had no time for – at all.

We drove miles to a shady cash machine; drove back; handed them over $200.

I said, “Do you know your cash machine is out of money or is broken?”

“Yes,” the woman said.

You kidding me?

Again, Amy said, “Let’s go, Tessa.”

I signed the papers and they were so kind to open the chain-linked fence to have my car returned to me.

This is way after midnight at this point. Amy waved and I waved back.

“Thank you.”

“Who’s got your back?”

I smile, and then I nod, the lesbian head nod.

For sure, not these fuckers.

Oh, then the many times I have moved, up and down steps, across town, strapping in my stuff on trucks, in cars, whatever to get the job done.

My friend, Corrine, who helped me pack lightning fast in my ghost house. I could not be present alone when the sun went down. The ghost had me, it knew it did. Corrine was not scared of any such ghost. We swepted, packed from one end of the apartment to the next. Still, the fastest I had ever packed, moved in my life. It is amazing what one can do with a paranormal force at your heels.

And of course, Sheila, who allowed me to stay at her house after only knowing her for a month while I was finding another place to live. Then, coming with me, just to be present, while we took out the last of my stuff and I cleaned the last corner of that damn place.

The list why I owe my life to my friends is countless:

Saving my butt when my salt was too low, handing me over Gatorade and extreme salty snacks.

Sugary substances, just the same, when needed.

Sharing countless coffee time with me when I may have a girl crush, or boy crush, depending what year this was.

Summarizing books with me when I have clearly ran out of time to read them and the test is the next day. Page-by-page, chapter-by-chapter.

Grabbing the back of my pants, stopping me from crossing the road when I have clearly not looked both ways.

Then, the countless laughs of usual nonsense, but never nonsense to me.

The list of how my friends have saved my ass is like a scroll falling out of a high tower that covers the landscape below. It is endless. I truly do not know how good of shape I would be in without them, or perhaps at all.

Thus – “I owe my life to the people I love” – thank you Ani for encapsulating a life worth’s blessings in one perfect sentence.