Towards the end of last year, my best friend was diagnosed with leukemia.

I knew I wanted to tell her story because it's an important one, but I had no clue where to begin. I knew I didn't want to write a letter to her; we've never been sappy or sentimental like that. We express our love for each other differently. We express it through our jokes. Whenever we're together, we have a sarcastic humor that gives us such a strong bond. It's what brings us together through any emotion: through our happiest times to the times when we're trying to make light of the dark. That's how I figured out -- after several weeks of contemplation -- how to write this thing.

Rachel's always cracking jokes, even when life seems to be fighting against her. Her sense of humor always brings about a sense of optimism, even though it may seem pessimistic at first. Even when things are tough, her ability to poke fun at life and to see things for how they really are is the quality that makes her so special. It's what lights up any room, makes anyone laugh, whether it be a close friend or a complete stranger.

So here it is. Here's what I've learned from getting to be so lucky to call Rachel my best friend.

When I went to visit her for the first time, I wasn't sure how to act. I knew I didn't want to be too much of a downer, but I also didn't want to crack jokes like the two of us always would, because I knew that what was going on was serious. After my initial stage of awkwardness, and after being afraid that Rachel was going to be different from the Rachel I always knew, my best friend didn't fail to be herself. As I began to leave the hospital after that first visit, she said to me, "Bye forever," and I couldn't help but laugh.

During one of my following visits, I got to watch TV with her and talk about what her stay was like. It was as if nothing had changed, as if we were hanging out at her house watching Netflix as usual. She talked about a show she had been watching in the hospital called "Kid Nation," telling me how ridiculous it was that children were placed in a "Survivor"-esque environment ("What kind of parent agrees to that?" she'd ask). She made me laugh when I should've been the one making her laugh.

Now, during her remission, she tells me about her visits for chemo. She tells me about the funny people she meets, including one patient who snores very loudly. Tonight, she called me and we talked like we always have, and there was a funny story from her end, of course.

I know that others in her situation would not have handled this obstacle the way Rachel has. I know that, if it were me, I would have no sense of humor at all. Of course, Rachel has struggled like anyone else in her situation, but she has not let the struggle stop her from being herself. Her ability to see the good in the matter, to be able to see the humor in life, is something we can all learn from in any circumstance.

We can all afford to be more like my best friend. (Sorry, Rachel, but I'm about to get sappy even though it's not how we act at all.) I'm so grateful to get to know someone who can face such a huge challenge and be able to overcome it with such strength. She has not let it change her for the worse, only for the better, and I can see that through the way she looks at life.

Thank you, Rachel, for teaching me and so many others how to find beauty in life when it can be so ugly. I can't wait to hear what you have to say next.