A Letter to My Girls
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Relationships

A Letter to My Girls

They're my favorite people

9
A Letter to My Girls

Sometimes in life, you meet someone that changes your life. You know that you will always be close with them, and you are never afraid that they will leave you. I'm not talking about my guy, though. He has his letter. I'm talking about my girls. They are my real soulmates. (Sorry Justin!) Each one of them fights me to be a better person. We can go for months without talking, but we still love each other the same. We always will.

I'll start off with my preschool girl. She is tall, blonde, and as gorgeous as can be. She has a fire in her veins and an attitude that can kill. I dare someone to tell her cheerleading isn't a sport. Then let me know how that goes. She is the Disney Princess of my friends, and she rocks it. She and I have been inseparable since preschool. We somehow made it all the way to 18 without killing each other. We have worked together, gone to school together, and spent every weekend we could with each other. There were so many nights spent in her pool freezing, or out back trying to light bonfires in the rain. We have strayed, but in the end, she is always the little blonde girl that fought with me over easter eggs in preschools.

Then there's my horse girl. She is tiny, but damn can this girl pack a punch. We met in kindergarten, and have been sisters ever since. Her favorite color has always been a light blue. She loves horses more than people. She is the smartest girl I know. We used to say she would be a brain surgeon when she grew up. When we were little we would create little clubs. There was our Winx club, where each of us was one of the characters from the show. We would pretend we were characters from Scooby-Doo. We would skip around and sing, even though neither of us could sing. We joined band together in elementary school, and we even have videos. I was always the girl slowly tapping the bass drum, while she was the girl in the front squawking on her clarinet and making a face when she did. She is the most sophisticated girl I know, even though she never rubs any of that sophistication off on me.

Next, comes my curly haired "wife," We knew each other when we were little, but we hated each other. I got the part of Mary in our churches play, and she was always the better Daisy scout. In middle school, we were forced together, and it actually changed everything. We became close friends fast. She has the curliest hair, and rarely straightens it. It does take a lot of effort. She convinced me to get chickens after seeing hers. She took pictures of me as a princess. She got me to audition for the school play. We were the girls always slow dancing together at school dances. We didn't need a man. We had each other. We became Facebook wives so that no other guy would bother us. Eventually, we got boyfriends, but we still had each other, and we always will.

Lastly, there's my California girl. She came all the way to Vermont from California, and she shook stuff up. We were conservative for the most part. She showed up with her crop tops and her yelling and her Cali girl attitude. We weren't friends at first because she scared the crap out of me. When we did become friends it was life changing. We would paint our faces for super bowls, and we would eat baker's chocolate until someone cried. We would tape off sides of the room so the teams wouldn't mix during football games. We would cheer on New Year's Eve, and we would have the best time. She moved again, though, and I miss her so much. Everything is better when she comes home.

These girls are my life. They have seen me broken and picked up the pieces so many times. I wouldn't be anywhere without them. I know that they will always be by my side though because that's what sisters are for. Even though I've known some of them longer than the others we are all sisters. We will always be inseparable no matter what life throws at us. I love them all so much.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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