Ever since I was a little girl, my family and I would vacation up to York, Maine. My cousins and I would count down the days until we could go to the Animal Kingdom, go on night bike rides, and look for shells on the rocks by Nubble Light. Before my brother could even walk or speak, I had to entertain myself somehow when my cousins did not make the trip. Apparently, I would throw Pringles chips in the air and attract the birds. According to my mom, I would call the seagulls my friends and would repeat this whenever I saw a seagull. (How weird, right?) Oddly enough, a seagull is the logo for my job at Hollister and is the mascot for my school at Endicott College.
My parents split up and divorced when I was in kindergarten. Since then, I always had an issue with separation and anxiety. I always found it difficult to be away from home. Whether I was at my dad’s for the weekend, week, or at running camp, I struggled the first few days. Going to Endicott was a different story. Before going to college, I was never away from home for more than seven days. I secretly got really homesick, but thanks to the friends I made, I was okay. It was not until the second semester of my freshman year when I realized who my real friends were.
I had amazing roommates, amazing classmates, and acquaintances, but it was not until I was pretty intoxicated when I really became friends with my best friend. It was not until I woke up in the morning that I not only realized that my wrist was broken, but who was the reason for me safely getting into bed. At the time, this girl and I barely knew each other, except that we were someone to tag along with when we went to Callahan for dinner. Now, a few years later, we remain best friends.
Friends have fights. If you do not experience a bicker here and there, that is not mental health; that is mental crap. You fight with the ones you love. You look out for each other. You want the best for each other. Sometimes, it is not until I am talking about an argument with my mom or brother for me to realize the whole disagreement was a load of crap. After the realization, I can go into my room and we can hug it out and three seconds later we will be laughing about how one of our exes texted us, or how one of us wore our shirt inside out all day.
Speaking of the exes, I know without a doubt that we would not have been able to get through those agonizing days, weeks, and months without each other. They are freaking crazy and not worth a second of our time... which took each other a lot of practice to realize... and begging of each other to not text them back after three glasses of wine or five shots on Halloween sophomore year. I have not been able to laugh about horrible moments of my past, until she was able to make the most hilarious jokes about it. Sometimes, I think the jokes we say could probably get one of us into a lot of trouble… oops. I just know that there are not many other people I can think of who I would rather cry with or laugh my butt off until we pee our pants (it has happened) with other than her.
It is funny to think about too because apparently we were both so intimidated by each other freshman year. People like to call it the RBF (I will let you figure that one out). We just happen to have the “I mean business, don’t mess with me” facial expression on most of the time. Now, we realize that there is not one thing about the other that is not approachable.
Aside from the unforgettable moments together, we have our bad days, and I do not mean with each other, but I mean our own individual bad days. I will not get into that heavy in detail, but we literally (I kid you not) have boxes, mason jars, and drawers filled with notes we leave each other that get us through those depressing moods that even no dose of antidepressants could get us through (no pun intended). That is what friends are for right?
Maybe this whole entry was a rant, maybe it was a vent, but I know I intended to convey one message. That very intention was to say “thank you” to my very best freaking friend. I do not know many others who will willingly cheer you on in the freezing cold, in the pouring rain, while hangover as heck to watch you run a race, or wait around for an hour and half waiting for you to cross a finish line at a half marathon, or will blatantly tell you to get your life together after coming home at 3am, 4am, or the next morning, and you know the rest. I just know that I am lucky to have found a sister for life who will stick by my side because we both know how crazy we each can be. Hey Ras-money, ily. You rock. Even though you can suck sometimes, you are the bomb dot com. You are the Christina to my Meredith (because I like medicine). You are my person.
"Don't let what he wants eclipse what you need. He's very dreamy, but he is not the sun. You are."
You also need to fix your broken ankle so that you can actually enjoy your senior year and party with me.
Also so that we can continue our 30-second dance parties.
Never change homie, unless it is your clothes after volleyball because that $H!T stinks. Ily bae.
(Above picture): We are not a couple.
