The seven big stars of The Big Bang Theory get all dressed up for their PEOPLE cover shoot (check out the issue, on stands now!). But it’s not just press that brings them together. “We miss each other,” Mayim Bialik says of breaks from filming their CBS hit. “Even if we see each other in the summer, it’s not the same as the kind of work we do when we’re together.”

Yesterday in my speech communications class, my professor was talking about friendships and all the different roles we step into for our friends and all the roles they step into for us. I’m always tweeting and posting on here about how important friendships are and how you should never ever take them for granted and I just wanted to reiterate that again. Maybe it’s because, as some of you know, my absolute best friend is going to school in another city and I miss him hourly, and I think about him a lot and I just related everything she was saying back to our friendship, but I wish I could have recorded everything my professor said because I found myself nodding my head and smiling and just agreeing with everything she was talking about (I mean, honestly, she’s brilliant). 

But specifically what stayed with me was when she was speaking about how we parent our friends. Not that we boss them around, exactly, but because we want them to stay healthy and active and be around for a long, long time, we tell them what to do, a lot. So gently gently gently remind your friends to eat, to drink plenty of water, to take their medications and go outside for fresh air. Remind them that you love them and that even if you don’t always agree with their decisions, you’ll always be there for them. Be patient and understanding but don’t be afraid to argue with them. Stand up for yourself, stand up for them. 

My professor said, “I need you to live for me.” And we do. We need our friends to live for us, selfish as that is. We need them. We can’t survive without them. Take care of each other, y’all. Take care of yourselves. 


Trembling, confused, despairing, limber, dry,
A wishing, weak, unmoving lump I lie.
This dart of love, whose piercing point, oft tried,
With virgin blood ten thousand maids have dyed.
Now languid lies in this unhappy hour;
Shrunk up and sapless like a withered flower. (x)