Jana was the kind of friend that randomly appeared at your house, crying because the universe was too big for her.

If she wanted to show you how much you meant to her, she would sleep over at yours, just to wake you up in the middle of the night and drag you outside to watch the stars sparkling, and then she'd cry again because it was too beautiful.

If you'd get cold, she'd lend you her leather jacket and put on the nineteenth mix tape she had made for you, which made your whole body heat up.

She was the kind of person who would clean up their room and find an old photo album or their favourite 80's film and be stuck in the past for a couple of hours until they remembered that they wanted to clean up.

Sometimes she would just stop and ask if you remembered.
The day you went to see the same film twice.
The time when she found this little vintage shop and fell in love with a leather jacket, but couldn't afford it, so you went and got it for her.
Or the holidays on which you spontaneously rented a car to get out.

Because she remembered all of these things.