Mr. President,

I can't speak for everyone of my generation with this article. Ultimately, I can only express what these past eight years have felt like for me. But I think a lot of millennials would agree with what I'm writing to you. You were the leader of my nation during the most crucial years in my life, and I can't help but reflect on those years as you now enter your last few months in the Presidency.

It's been eight years, but it feels like it's been so much more. Eight years ago, you were the presumptive nominee of the Democratic Party for the 2008 Presidential election. You had seemingly come from nowhere - you were a young, headstrong senator from Illinois who hadn't even served a full term. But the way you spoke charmed millions. The passion in your voice, the hopeful enthusiasm in your bearing, and the eloquence in the way your words were crafted gave hope to so many who had been frustrated with the status quo. You slogged it out in a knock-down, drag-out fight with Hillary Clinton, and come November, you vaulted to victory. That's where you not only began your journey into history, but where you entered the lives of this generation.

I think we millennials, in a way, have a connection to you - not unlike the one that Generation X had with Ronald Reagan, and the baby-boomers had with Dwight D. Eisenhower and JFK. Though we didn't all agree with you, our generation was defined by your presence in the Oval Office. You were the president we came of age with. I was thirteen when you moved into 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and when you move out, I'll be twenty-one. Like so many others, you were there for my formative years. When we watched you take the oath of office that first time, we watched history being made. I remember at lunch that day in junior high, they wheeled in a dusty old TV so we could watch the first African-American president become the chief executive. I'm sure that I'll remember that until I'm old and gray.

You took over in a tough time. The Great Recession had shaken us to our core, and people were watching their livelihoods wither away. We were bogged down in two wars with no end in sight. The future looked uncertain. People were scared, and I know I certainly was. The hardship hit my own family too, and there were days we weren't sure how to pay the bills anymore. But, somehow, we pulled through. This nation is still pulling through. You were there with us. You fought and fought to help the country get back on its feet. We're still not quite back to where we were, but we're getting there.

From your first year in office, you endured torrents of unwarranted abuse. I would hear people in my small town tell awful jokes about you and even make racist remarks. Some folks went so far as to claim you were the anti-Christ for some reason. Pundits and politicians alike would blast you for the smallest things. But you let it roll right off your shoulders. You took it with grace and civility. All through your two terms, you've put up with (I beg your pardon) bullshit, and handled it like a true class act. I can't tell you how much I admire that.

You did some great things in your eight years, Mr. President. Only ten days into the job, you signed the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act, which is still helping women pursue their right to equal pay in the workplace. You pushed forward the Affordable Care Act, which is helping young people like me get insured every day. You appointed two magnificent Supreme Court justices, Sonia Sotomayor and Elena Kagan (and you may very well appoint a third). You've kept our presence in the world strong, but in the meantime have worked hard at diplomacy with old adversaries like Cuba. You challenged our nation to adopt cleaner energy standards. You championed the rights of the LGBT community by helping to bring down 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' and the Defense of Marriage Act. And on a night I remember so vividly - when I was staying up late one night before school and a friend texted me to tell me to turn on CNN - you faced the nation to tell us that the perpetrator of the darkest day in my young memory had been brought to justice.

You brought us through some very difficult times, sir. When Hurricane Sandy ravaged the Mid-Atlantic, you gave your all - regardless of party loyalties - in working with state governors to help rebuild our coastal communities. Your words comforted me and millions of Americans in wake of the tragedy at Sandy Hook. I remember that day, I came home from school and felt empty. I took a walk out the road from my house in silence and couldn't even process all the emotions of how awful what had happened that day was. I wept. And you wept with me. I remember seeing you wipe a tear away as you addressed the nation, and I knew that you were speaking from the heart. You're a father to two beloved daughters - you felt that pain in your heart too.

Things weren't perfect through your administration. No president has ever done everything right, and you're no exception. In Cuba, Guantanamo Bay remains open. Our immigration system is still a mess and, unfortunately, has caused some whackjobs out there to come up with some rather silly ideas of how they think they can fix it. Even though you ended the Iraq War in your first term, we are now finding ourselves sucked back into the chaos of that war-torn region. And though you proposed having "an unprecedented level of openness in Government," that reputation has been called into question.

President Obama, despite your faults, I want you to know that in the years where I grew from a teenager into a young adult, you were my president. I had faith in you from the very beginning, and I still do. Since 2008, I admired the way you carried yourself: that cool composure, the blunt truth when necessary, and the skilled delivery of every word for its maximum effect. Hell, when I do any public speaking, I style myself after you, right down to my gestures for emphasis. And, honestly, I cannot go without saying this: you were the coolest goddamn president since, like, Teddy Roosevelt. Please, please, please, before you leave office, do a few more events with your anger translator, Luther.

One more thing - when I graduated high school and was getting ready to go to Penn State, just for the hell of it, I sent you an invitation to my grad party. I just want you to know that even though you couldn't make it, I jumped up and down like a little girl when I got a letter back from you along with a signed picture.

Thanks, Obama. No, really. Thanks for everything, Barack.

- Brandon