A few weeks ago I was told that my best friend Pauline would be coming to visit me in the summer. Like the clouds during a storm, I cried for half an hour. I couldn’t believe my luck. My soulmate, who lives in a small town outside of Frankfurt, taught me to follow my passion. As little girls we played with Barbies, and as young women we stayed up until midnight writing stories and poems until our hands cramped and our pens ran out of ink. As we grew out of childhood, Pauline began writing and fell in love with the craft, telling me all about her stories. I was soon absorbed into the joy of writing. When she moved to Frankfurt and left me behind, almost nothing changed. Still calling me for advice about boys and plot holes, we spend hours on the phone talking about anything and everything. My quiet demeanor smoothes her spontaneous manner, and her loyalty compliments my caring nature. And more than anything, Pauline reminds me to follow my dreams. On days when I wonder whether the risk of failing is worth doing what I love, her passion and her vision push me to keep dreaming. Time and again she has propelled me to try my hardest, and for that I love her. She is a wild and wicked rainstorm, come to wash away my worries and quarrels.