To the Girl I Met in Eighth Grade.
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To the Girl I Met in Eighth Grade.

Seven years later and I still can't get rid of you.

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To the Girl I Met in Eighth Grade.
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To the girl that shares my dark sense of humor, to the girl that stayed up to see the sunrise with me, to the girl that has shared my pain and happiness for the last seven years; thank you.

When you first meet someone, you have no idea how much they will impact your life. When I first met you, you were just another girl that I had homeroom with. I knew you vaguely from middle school, but that was the only real impression I had of you. Thinking about it, everything really started because we liked the same band. A really “phase-y” band. We were both rocking the too-heavy eyeliner, converse, and bright blue eye-shadow. I didn’t have a lot of friends back then, and you were more than happy to fill that role in my life. As I’m sure you know by now, I was in a pretty bad place back then. You helped me out of that time of my life.

The best part of it was that you never tried to fix me. You were just there. Always. I could text you in the dead of the night and my phone would light up with a reply within the minute. Not once did you judge me for any thought, any mistake, any bad hair day. Through your silent support, I came to understand that the fixing was something I had to do, but it would never be something that I had to do alone.

We have had our fair share of fights, and I know there are going to be much more. Whether it will be over something small and stupid or something big and important, I am willing to fight about it all with you because at the end of the day; I know we’ll laugh about it. Our friendship is far from the picture-perfect ones you see on television. We are torn around the edges and our words come out harsh and we have really bad senses of humor. We don’t go out for coffee dates, and we don’t hug one another all that often. In our respective ways, we’re still broken. This friendship does not exist for us to fix one another, but for us to celebrate one another’s own progress no matter how small.

When we graduated from high school, we knew that we wouldn’t be the people to drift apart. We had become too engrained into one another’s lives at that point. I moved three hours away to go to school, and that has never gotten in our way. For seven years, you have been there for me. You have laughed with, and at, me. Recently, I was there for you when your mother died. It was one of the worst days. There wasn’t much I could do for you, so I just did what you had always done for me: I stayed by your side. She would be proud of you, ya know? She’d be proud of you for just living, when you were born she gave you life and you make her proud every day just by living it. I thank Angie every day for creating someone as amazing as you.

Most of all, I thank you. Thank you for waving me over to sit with you that first day in high school. Thank you for fighting with me over stupid stuff. Thank you for fighting with me over the important stuff. Thank you for being there when my grandparents died. Thank you for crying for me when a boy broke my heart. Thank you for cheering me on as I piece that heart back together. Thank you for all those nights I spent at your house during high school. Thank you for calling me at two in the morning just to tell me that you’re on the toilet. Thank you for laughing at my horrible jokes. Thank you for opening your family up to me and taking me in like I was always meant to be there. Thank you for supporting me always, in anything that I do. Thank you for being you.

We met in eighth grade. In eighth grade, I didn't know it, but I met a girl that would grow up to be one of my best friends. And I wouldn't change a thing, not even the bright blue eye-shadow.

Thank you for everything.

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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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