As they always do on Emery's birthday, my parents order a violin-themed cake and invite our family and friends over. Mostly mine. Aly and his grandma come, but his parents are dead for all their involvement in his life, and Emery tries to pretend like he isn't hurt by the radio silence.

Bella, Danny, Matthias and Aly are over, though, and I think we more than make up for the missing presence of his absentee folks.

Em and I cuddle on the couch while we watch a movie, his face on my lap. I know how to rub his scalp and back and shoulders so he falls asleep. I think he is asleep, and pause my rubbing, when his hand suddenly moves mine back into position at the nape of his neck, and I resume my rubbing.

He's still a bit down - I can sense it - but I know how to cheer him up.

When we're gathered around the table about to eat, I snap a picture of my slice of cake and add the caption: You're my birthday cake and I'm gonna eat you out.

My mom, who follows me on Instagram, comes over and slaps me upside the head so hard I go careening into the nearby couch, to everyone's hearty amusement.

I add a more serious message to the caption. Happy birthday, Em 💕 To many more years of friendship - with him.