I believe in friendship. And Sarah Jessica Parker.

Sarah Jessica Parker, one of the women in the world I most admire, has, this week, lamented the state of women’s friendships.

“I think so much reality television — and the women that dominate culture today — are pretty unfriendly towards one another,” Parker tells Harper’s Bazaar. “They use language that’s really objectionable and cruel and not supportive. I like to remember that Carrie and the other women in Sex and the City were really nice to each other.”

SJP, I have one thing to say to that.

I’ll be your best friend. In fact, I already am.

I met her once. I had a 7 minute interview window with her, which I pushed to 8 and a half, despite a wildly gesticulating publicist in my periphery.

She was, as expected, wonderful. Warm, smart, funny, and SO engaged. She was visiting my home town, to attend the race horsing events I loved, and, in the few moments we had together, mentioned she had been breakfasting at a tiny café that was MY LOCAL!!!

In my tragic, desperate fan girl mind, I decided that was it. I left that interview believing we were destined to be best friends. Not BFF’s like Taylor Swift seems to be with everyone. Real, genuine, know each other’s middle names (well obviously it’s Jessica, but she would know mine, which is a deathly secret) best friends.

In the back of my mind, the rational part, I understood the reality. That SJP was sitting through endless similar interviews that day. That she was probably woo-ing just about every other woman who sat in front of her the same way. That I was just a very well heeled (I wore my best shoes, natch) face amongst the crowd.

But she was so divinely personable, and so similar in my own beliefs and view of the world, and because we had that café connection, within 20 minutes of leaving that interview I had created a scenario in which we would be great mates.

It would play out thus. I would see her at the café for breakfast the next morning. We would get chatting. She would find me as interesting and hilarious as I her. We’d leave it at that, because I wouldn’t want her to think I was a crazy stalker.

Then somehow she’d notice me on Twitter. We’d get chatting. I’d mention I know someone who lives two doors up from her (because I DO – do you see, it was meant to be!). Next thing, we’re emailing, I’m going to New York, hanging out with her, she offers to get me discounts at Manolo Blahnik and I decline because I’m there just for her friendship, it all just falls into place.

I was like a girl who’d gone on an amazing first date and spent the taxi ride on the way home planning her wedding. I was basically practicing my signature with my new married surname.

Re-telling it now, I can hear how sad it sounds. But I was on such a high. I floated home and shared my plans with my husband (after all, he was going to have to become besties with Matthew Broderick, which crazily enough isn’t that far fetched because they’re kind of eccentric in similar ways, OH GOD PLEASE STOP ME!!)

His response was helpfully, hurtfully real. “You know she’s an actress. It’s her job to make you feel that way.”

Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more deflated in one foul swoop.

I tried not to believe him, but it was too late. My bubble had burst clear in my face, yet it took me all night for me to slowly float back down to earth, and acknowledge the truth of the situation.

By morning, I had to admit my dream wasn’t going to happen. I literally cried in my bed, like I’d lost a love. You’re going to think I’m insane, but I was flat for a whole week, thinking of what could have been.

I don’t think SJP was being fake or disingenuous. Her friendliness was real, and our connection. I’m certain of that. And I do really believe if the world turned into something it isn’t, and I spent time with her, we would be mates.

But obviously, friendships don’t happen from 8 and a half-minute interviews, and super stars don’t generally invite radio hosts to stay with them in New York. That’s the sort of thing that happens in reality tv and Sex and the City.

Just know, Sarah Jessica, that if you did, I’d be a really good friend to you. We’d just hang out, doing normal boring things, like coffee and pilates, and our husbands could talk books and movies, and our kids could play and draw and watch movies together.

Ask my real friends. Tania Jane or Janelle Marie will vouch for Joanne Melinda any day.