Dear Best Friend,
Hey, you. Yeah, you know who you are. I don’t know what you were thinking back in May of this year when you decided to commit to a college that wasn’t mine, but you did and I don’t appreciate it. With each day that goes by, I realize that it’s more difficult not having you here than I originally anticipated. Ever since we clicked on that history trip our sophomore year of high school, we’ve been basically inseparable. Now, I’m only able to see you daily through the screen of an iPhone by checking your Snapchat story, Insta posts, all of the Facebook pics you’re tagged in (love that red blazer, by the way) and FaceTime. You’re always so busy doing wonderful things off at college and it makes me happy to see you happy- that’s how I know you’re really my best friend. Not only are you excelling in all of your classes like I knew you would, but you’re also committing to a ton of extracurriculars and slaying at those as well (then there’s me who can barely make a PB&J nowadays). How do you have your life together already?
I’m not going to lie- it’s hard not seeing you in the hallways at school as you run to your locker because you were late again and getting to hug you, making you even later for class than you already were. It’s no fun not being able to take Snapchats with the caption “___ days until we’re out of here!!!” or “Look at this loser.” I hate that I can’t ride home with you on Friday afternoons so we could make and eat a ton of food, have movie marathons, and barely sleep that night because all we ever did was talk.
I go through each day unable to text you saying “girl where you at” and run to you to tell you the latest gossip I learned in lecture. You’re not there to tell me that my lipstick is killer and to wear those five-inch heels because we’re young and we’re cute and who cares? I can’t jam out to our playlist of The 1975 and your odd hip-hop music that I can never learn all the words to; I can’t look over to the car seat next to me and see you banging your head, jamming out and singing every word flawlessly.
So, best friend, here’s to missing you and wishing you were here so we could grab Starbucks and talk for hours like old times. I know your schedule is busy and so is mine, but this technological era we live in allows us to communicate with ease. #praise. Thank you for dealing with my nonstop weird, whack and unpredictable personality for these many, many years. Thank you for being the marinara sauce to my mozzarella sticks, the salted caramel to my mocha and most importantly, the other half of my semi-psychotic personality. Go best friend. That’s my best friend.
Love you, loser,
Jules
P.S. Transfer schools.
