Dear Best Friend,

We met about four years ago, as naïve and doe-eyed freshmen. I remember holding out my hand and saying “Hi, my name is…” and you did the same. As I shook your hand, I remember thinking to myself, “Will she like me? Will I like her? What does she think of me? Oh no, do I have lipstick on my teeth again? Are my fake lashes all wonky?”

After four years together, I think I may have found the answer. The day I shook hands with you for the first time, I had found my friend soul-mate, my other half, the other me. And yes, my lashes may have been wonky, but that didn’t stop you for letting me into your life.

So best friend, thank you for accepting me for who I am and still choosing to hang out with me even after seeing all the questionable things I have done and said. I know you hate those pimple-popping videos with passion but yet, you still continue to send them my way because you know how much I enjoy those sick, sick (but awesome) videos.

Thank you for making college less scary. I remember feeling like a turtle who didn’t want to come out of my shell the first day. I wasn’t ready to be a big girl on a big campus. But I met you and suddenly, the world didn’t seem as scary as before. You offered your full hospitality (and box full of snacks) for nothing in return.

Thank you for being my emotional Band-Aid. You were always there for me when I felt like a sardine among a tank full of sharks. Whenever I utterly hopeless -like a human version of Eeyore- you were always ready with “it’s ok” texts, heart emojis and diabetes-inducing snacks.

Whenever I was having a bad day, you would get the Netflix out and array of more chocolate for us to devour. You were also there when I woke up thirty minutes before my final exam, having fallen asleep that night before getting the chance to study a single page of notes. As I went into full-panic mode, you were there at my side, keeping me from combusting due to anxiety overload.

Thank you for being my partner in crime. We’ve both seen each other at the lowest level of human intelligence after one too many vodka shots. But still, we laughed and made jokes as we took turns hunching over the toilet. You also saw me epically fall as I tried to drunkenly wash my feet in the sink. I think I permanently lost a few more brain cells than I could afford that night.

Thank you for never having one judgment against me. Do you recall all the hours we spent pigging out on our gross carpet watching cheesy dramas?

Anyone else would’ve thought they stumbled into a pig sty but we didn’t care how we looked in front of each other. I could have crumbs splattered all over my face, hair and body but it would be okay because you did too. And we both didn’t give a damn. We would just sigh and murmur something along the lines of “Okay, tomorrow we will start our diet” as we opened a fresh new bag of Cheetos. But we both knew the next night was ice cream night.

Thank you for listening to me and making me feel appreciated and loved. Whenever I had to vent and complain about something (which was pretty often) you always had an ear to lend. Even when you were tired or had a rough day yourself, you would let me let out my tantrum, like a mother witnessing her spoiled child throw a tirade. But like the best and most warm-hearted mother in the world, you still listened to every word I had to say or frantically text.

But most of all, thank you for giving me the chance to be me. We’ve shared all of our dreams for the future, the pains of the past and the aspirations of the present with each other. We’ve cried, laughed and shook our fists in anger at the world side-by-side. I was never afraid to be vulnerable with you because there was never for a moment, a doubt in my heart that you would think badly of me. We shared our biggest fears with one another as well as celebrate every achievement.

I will never forget the movie nights we had staying up after the sun had long gone to sleep. I will never forget the day our uber-driver told us to “enjoy our hamburgers” as we exited his car because he thought we smelled like food. But in reality, we had just spent the afternoon cleaning out the microwave that I had accidentally nuked and smoked into oblivion. I will never forget our 2 a.m. conversations, where we’ve had the most serious talks about the most stupidest things. But we didn't care.

I can’t wait to see how our lives will pan out, what kind of career you will have, who you will marry and what kind of house you’ll eventually settle into. I can’t wait to celebrate our children’s birthday parties together and have massive conjoined holiday parties. Maybe our children will become best friends too and carry on our legacy (haha).

Even when I’m old and wrinkly at a ripe age of eighty years, I will still hold and cherish all these memories close to my heart. And we will continue to make more memories even then because we promised to eat biscuits and hang out in front of the fireplace when we’re a pair of croaky old seniors, right?

Sincerely,

Erica