A shoulder to cry on. A listening ear. A hug. All the things I had now that I didn’t have before. Things that should have been the most basic in most friendships but hadn’t been for mine. They had been my best friends for five years. How was I supposed to know that I was allowed to open up? How was I to know that I could cry on their shoulders, tell them about my day, or ask for a hug when they had never offered to let me? Only now did I realize how deprived I had been of such simple things. Only now did I realize that they had restricted me from spending time with my other friends or making any new ones. Only now did I realize that my real friends were behind me all along, waiting to catch me whenever I fell. No matter what cliff I fell off of. And I fell. But this time, I didn’t just fall because I tripped or stumbled. I was pushed.