To my second mom,

I've shared a friendship with your daughter for years now; a friendship that has made me laugh until I've cried, one that made high school a little more bearable, and one that put me back together after my first heartbreak. When I look back, I realize that my most valuable friendship couldn't have been possible without you.

I'll start off with my much overdue apologies. I'm sorry for all those nights you've lost sleep because we were laughing obnoxiously, and for making you watch our homemade Taylor Swift music videos. I'm especially sorry you knew me during all of my awkward stages (6th grade was a killer).

On a more serious note, I also owe you a million thank-yous. I've thanked you for the huge things you've done, like taking me on week-long vacations for multiple summers, but I don't think I've ever mentioned how thankful I am for all of the small things in between.

Believe me, those don't go unnoticed.

Thank you for driving us to the mall on multiple occasions, especially when we were just dying to get matching Abercrombie shirts to wear on twin day at school. (Which, by the way, why did you even let us do that?)

Thank you for reminding me that the boy who broke my heart was the one at loss and that it was not the end of the world.

Thank you for giving me a hug when I walk through your front door after being away at college for a while, for making my favorite dinner when I come over, and for also having the best snacks to munch on at midnight.

Above all, though, thank you for letting your home be my second; while also molding my best friend, and myself included, into the women we are today.

Without you, I'd laugh a little less and lack a lot of knowledge. You've taught me some of the same lessons my own mother has, but I've been less stubborn in listening to them. I have so much respect for you, especially because it takes a special kind of woman to deal with the combination of me and your daughter. With a lot of love and patience though, you've made it look easy.

Love,

The Extra Daughter You Never Signed Up For