Almost every memory from my childhood involves one, if not both, of my best friends. Some of my earliest memories, memories from when I was three and four years old, include the one and only Grace Razzano.

Grace and I became friends when we were toddlers, our older siblings were in the same kindergarten class. Not too long after we met, Grace and I took on preschool together (and we killed it, if I do say so myself). All of the other four-year-olds were, of course, jealous of our already-blooming sisterhood. It was obvious, even when we were finger-painting and picking our noses, that we were an epic dynamic duo.But then, disaster struck: Kindergarten.

Grace and I were put into different kindergarten classes.

We were forced to venture on our own, into a terrifying world of crying peers and boogers.

In her kindergarten travels, Grace had befriended a small and extremely blonde little girl. I was wary at first, to be honest. Blondness was a foreign territory to me. It wasn’t until this blonde girl and I shared a first grade class together that I decided to accept her as my own. A playdate was set up; she came over and we played for a little while, but then she ditched me to go watch my mother do laundry in the kitchen.

The blonde girl, whom they call “Jessica” was strange; I liked her.

So, pretty much since the first grade it was Daniela, Grace, and Jess. No fights, no drama, just friendship.

I feel really lucky to say that it’s still like this. Even though I’ve been away at school for the past two years, our friendship is still as strong as ever. Grace and Jess basically live at school with me, and their continuous visits give me something to look forward to as I’m drowning in college-induced stress.

So, I guess I want to say thanks.

Dear Grace and Jess,

Thank you both for always having my back, for always being there whenever I need to vent about whatever stupid thing is occurring in my life, or when I just want to talk.

Thank you for not letting the physical distance between us get in the way of our friendship.

Thank you for always picking up the phone when I drunkenly call you at 2 a.m., and for taking care of me when I thought it was totally fine to drink that 15th mixed drink (I’m exaggerating, of course…or am I?!).

Thank you for never judging my overreactions, my mental breakdowns, or my awkwardness (or if you do judge me for these things, thanks for doing it behind my back).

Thanks for being the type of pals that are able to pick on each other without getting offended.

Thank you for all the sleepovers, mall trips, hangouts, and all the memories that come along with having the same friends for almost your entire life.