I will never forget the blue slippers and long black hair that wildly ran up and down the aisle of bus 5. How strange for a girl to wear L.L. Bean slippers to school! The absurdity and randomness of her fashion choices in third grade were only the beginning. Little did I know, Amy would become one of my closest and dearest friends.

We met in third grade. She carried a confidence to her that was completely foreign to me. I could not understand how she cared so little about what others thought of her. She effortlessly ran around school, and my home with little regard of how she appeared, or acted. She just did it. Her confidence has always been something I envied greatly. Our friendship grew through our love of lacrosse. Some of my fondest memories are from her crazy outbursts at practice or watching her skillfully maneuver her way around defenders to score a behind-the-back, left-handed goal at only age ten. Our friendship was simple and fun-built on sarcastic and goofy attitudes and fueled by my admiration and desire to be friends with this crazy ball of energy.

As middle school approached, and we had every single class together, we soon became two peas in a pod; we were attached at the hip. Every single day after Bus 5 dropped her off at her big white house on main street, I would receive a text about two hours later on my Alias 2, that only read "Hi." Had, Amy not texted me everyday, I'm not sure if we would have become as close as we did. We told each other everything. It became a friendship where she wouldn't knock if she came over my house, she would just come in. My parents wouldn't put on a facade when she was over it was as if she was part of the family. When we sat in silence it wasn't uncomfortable, it was natural. It was as if I was hanging out with my sister.

Before we knew it, high school had arrived. The plan was that my dad would drop me off at Amy's before he had to go to work, and we would walk from her house to the high school which was basically in her backyard. I remember it perfectly. I had slept unusually well the night before-which was completely unlike me. And as Amy and I walked up to the doors, I did not feel one ounce of anxiety or fear. We just walked in like we owned the place on the first day of our freshman year.

I knew change was right around the corner. Like her older siblings, who also had undeniable athletic abilities, Amy would soon be attending prep school. With that, I watched her apply to schools our freshman year of high school, similar to a senior watching her friends apply to college. As much as I didn't want her to leave me in the first place, I prayed that she would pick a school that was close enough to home. Unfortunately, my prayers were not answered, and Amy chose to attend the school her older brother was currently at- a prep school all the way on a lake in New Hampshire.

At least when she came home she would be in the same town! Wrong. As Amy was the last to leave home, her mother decided to sell their big beautiful house on main street that was a significant landmark around town, and move to a different town over. While this was not the end of the world, my entire childhood as I knew it was changing- and would never be the same.

Up until Amy left to begin her sophomore year at prep school, I dreaded the day and refused to give it much thought. But once she was gone, I was in disbelief. I felt like I needed to completely start over, for I would not be spending my high school years with my best friend. Thanks to sports, I was able to make a great group of friends and truly enjoy and love my high school experience, one that would have been even better if Amy were around to experience it with us.

I watched Amy grow and blossom at her school as well, and as much as I didn't like to admit it, I realized over time, that Amy's decision to go to prep school was the decision that was the best for her. We both changed immensely in the time were were apart. We created new memories, made new friends and formed new opinions that were completely opposite from the other. There were times when we would go three months without speaking, or nine months without seeing each other at all.

But as soon as I saw a text that said "Hi," everything was the same.

After more than ten years of friendship, and two-hundred miles, I still consider Amy my best friend.