KAAAAAAAT!!! 😤😤

KAAAAAAAT!!!

I swear, if I scream that name one more time, I might rupture something in my throat. But what else am I supposed to do when my best friend, my worst nightmare, and the absolute chaos tornado of my life just vanishes into thin air—again?

Kat. Katherine Elaine Morales. The girl who enters rooms like she owns them, leaves like she’s being chased by demons, and somehow convinces everyone in between that it’s all part of the plan. Spoiler alert: it’s never part of the plan.

Take today, for example. Just one example in a vast library of Kat-related nonsense.

We were supposed to meet at noon. That’s it. Just noon. Not hard. A simple, friendly brunch. Catch up, talk about life, reminisce, maybe cry a little into overpriced mimosas—normal people stuff. But noon comes, and there’s no Kat. 12:05, I check my phone. No texts. 12:15, I start pacing outside the cafe. 12:30, I text her “Where are you??” like a worried mom. At 12:45, I just yell it out loud in the middle of 5th and Jefferson:

“KAAAAAAAT!!! 😤😤”

The pigeons fluttered like I’d summoned a storm. One old man gave me a thumbs up. Everyone else avoided eye contact, as if I were a walking mental breakdown. And maybe I was.

But that’s the thing about Kat. You don’t choose the chaos. You just learn to dance with it. She’s the kind of person who shows up two hours late, holding a half-eaten croissant, and says, “You won’t believe what happened,” with a grin so wide you almost forgive her before she even explains.

Except this time? No croissant. No dramatic entrance. Just… nothing.

Which would be fine if this were the first time. Or even the second. But Kat has a reputation—one she built with the reckless commitment of a reality TV star and the charm of a Disney villain. One time, we planned a weekend getaway. She booked us a cabin in the woods. Sounds lovely, right? Turns out, she mistook Tuesday for Friday, and we ended up driving six hours for a reservation that didn’t exist anymore. We slept in the car, ate gas station snacks, and fended off raccoons. She thought it was “an adventure.” I thought it was a crime against vacationing.

Another time, she decided we should crash a wedding. Why? “Because love is in the air and we haven’t danced in weeks.” We weren’t invited. We didn’t even know the couple. But five hours later, I’m on a dance floor with Kat, barefoot and holding a stranger’s bouquet, while she teaches the bride’s grandma how to salsa.

And you know what? I kind of loved it. That’s what makes being mad at Kat so hard. Just when you’re ready to throttle her, she does something so hilarious, so sweet, or so utterly Kat, that you remember why you let her stay in your life at all.

Still… there are days like this. Days where the weight of her unpredictability feels less like a fun quirk and more like an anchor dragging me into deep water. I know she means well. I know her heart is huge—too big for her own chest sometimes. But I can’t help wondering if I’m the only one who’s always left standing around, checking my watch, yelling her name into the void.

KAAAAAAAT!!! 😤😤

It’s more than a name now. It’s a sound of frustration, sure, but also weirdly… affection. A cry of love and rage mixed together in one guttural, dramatic syllable. It’s the sound I make when I’m angry that I care so much. Because I do. Against all reason, all logic, and all repeated warning signs—I care about Kat.

She’s the friend who remembers your birthday with a hand-written letter even if she forgets to show up to the party. The one who makes playlists for every mood you’ve ever had. Who calls you crying because she had a dream where you got old and forgot her name. Who tells you she believes in your writing more than you do.

So yeah, I’ll probably scream her name again next week when she no-shows a movie night or invites a mime to my birthday “for the aesthetic.” And I’ll keep being the responsible one, the timekeeper, the “have you eaten today?” friend. Because that’s how we work.

Some people find soulmates in romance. I found mine in a hurricane of a girl with chipped nail polish, a laugh like thunder, and an inability to be on time.

And just as I finish this thought, my phone buzzes. It’s a message from Kat:

“Omg I swear I thought we said 1!! I’m five mins away!! Don’t hate meeee 🥲❤️ also I brought pastries!! The fancy kind!!”

I roll my eyes so hard I almost sprain something. But then I smile. Of course she brought pastries.

Of course she’s coming.

Of course I’ll forgive her.

KAAAAAAAT!!! 😤😤

I wouldn’t change her for the world.