Dear best friend (and yes, I mean best friend),

I know you've probably already read a billion of these letters and resonated with all of them the same ways I have. You've probably finished each letter late at night when I cross your mind just like I have for the past eight (broken) months. Each one describing scenarios that we went through and conversations we used to have to a T. If you're anything like me, you're sick of reading them but yet each time one pops up on your screen you feel obligated to open it because it reminds you of who we used to be. But I swear that's not what this is going to be, OK? So if you're reading this, which a part of me sincerely hopes you will, please continue.

You were, without a doubt in the world, the most genuine friend I have ever had thus far and one of the best gifts God has ever and will ever give me. You saved my life more times than you know of and wiped away a year's worth of tears. Now, I'd love to sit here and write in great detail about all the wonderful things you did for me in the time we were friends, but you have to understand I just can't anymore.

I've spent countless nights, as they are becoming more and more frequent, hoping and praying that you'll come back. I've relived the nights we spent together in laughter as much as the night we spent silently together because we could just enjoy each other's presence. I've backtracked, retraced our last words, and tried to replay that night wishing the outcome was anything but what it is. I wish there were words I could have said differently or things I could have done physically to make you want to stay.

But there just isn't.

And I'm finally learning to be OK with that.

I know that whatever you decide to be in life, you'll be the best one there is. I know that you'll give your heart fully and completely to everyone that you love and who doesn't take you for granted the way I did. Your impact on this world will be, by a long shot, one of the greatest this world will ever see and I will feel as privileged to have known you then as I do now. And that, right there, is what finally makes me okay with the loss of you. Because I know that you're going to be much better than just "OK."

I'll never stop praying for you and I to cross paths again in the future. Maybe we'll be married and have started our own lives, or maybe we'll be old people in a nursing home. Whatever the circumstances are, I will welcome you with open and loving arms. I will be overjoyed to hear where life has taken you and all the accomplishments you will have made.

The bottom line is this, I have always and will always love you. And no matter where we are or where we stand in our relationship and even though the loss of you is a painful memory every day, you'll always be my very best friend.