Dear Squad,

How does one even start a letter that means so much? You are my best friends. You know weird things about me that no one should know...things that I don't think anyone really wants to know, even you. We've seen each other through the ups and downs, through our triumphs and turmoils, horrible professors and 4.0's, through entire series of shows like "The O.C." and "Supernatural," through our roughest relationships and our love-sick highs, through around the clock ice-cream runs and drunken nights, and through all eight Harry Potter movies. It's been a wild ride so far and I don't ever want it to stop.

We ARE squad goals.

Anywhere we go, it's a party.

Even when we're wildly inappropriate and do things in public that would make our mothers cringe. (I'll always be your human door when you need to pee outside.) But it's okay because we always look fierce.

As long as we're all together. When just two of us march into WaWa in our sweatpants we don't look as intimidating.

I will always love you all, even when it's my turn to get roasted in the group chat.

And even when one of you decides to share your latest Google search findings...

No, none of our nipples are turning brown.

When you endlessly blow up my notifications in the middle of the day...

And even when I question our morals, values, and souls after we say things that would make the creators of "Cards Against Humanity" proud.

If we keep talking shit about someone who died their ghost is going to come after us, OK.

Because we just get each other.

Even our newer additions to the squad who we all weren't sure about originally...

The kid's a square, Benny.

But it turns out they are just as strange as we are.

Before they knew it they were whipped into the tight-knight but absurd world of sharing our medical concerns...

Nights where our sole purpose of getting together is to eat.

Jam sessions and long drives.

Sharing weird things we've heard significant others and hook-ups say.

Who was that dude? Did you tell him to go see a doctor?

Attempting to help each other get in shape.

And wild nights out.

I love you all. And I love the unique qualities you each bring to the squad.

Like the one who loves food more than anyone you know.

Butter, chipotle mayo, and Chick-fil-A sauce legit make anything taste better.

The hot-head.

The one who always wants to fight someone, especially after a night of drinking.

The center of attention, otherwise known as the drama queen.

Can you please calm down for just a sec?

The one who you all really worry about functioning on their own from time to time.

Sometimes they surprise you. Who knew?

The mom..who attempts to stop you from making bad decisions but then usually joins in due to squad pressure.

The one who is too comfortable sharing their sex lives.

The unstable one.

(lol jk that's all of us)

The sexual dynamo who you need to remind to chill sometimes.

Please, for the love of all that is Holy would you put the banana down?

The one who "knows it all."

The one who is always dancing.

And the one who is love crazy.

Actually, we're all a mix of these qualities.

Nonetheless, thank you for providing endless laughs and inside jokes.

Thank you for cheering me up when nothing else could.

Thank you for understanding and never judging.

Thank you for always having my back when I need it. Literally. You would fight a bitch for me.

Thank you for believing in me and my odd dreams.

Yes, mermaids and unicorns are real. Yes, I can be a reality television star. And yes, it is possible to eat fast food every day and not gain weight. (lol)

Thank you for the most sincere and strange compliments I'll ever receive.

Thank you for all of the homemade holiday and birthday gifts because we're usually broke af.

I love you, $0.89 of scrapbook paper from Michael's and the cost to print out our best pictures together, chalkboard paint and an old wine-bottle's worth.

Thank you for all of the crazy, weird, intense, and sometimes scary dancing and singing sessions.

Sometimes when I hear gangster rap, I dance like a demon is being exercised from my body. And when I hear the "Lion King" song, I move like I've been doing interpretive dancing and yoga for eight years.

Thank you for assembling whenever I need to get my mind off of things.

Thank you for trying to stop me when I'm about to make a horrible life decision.

Texting fuckboys is never a good idea.

And thank you for being there since Day 1.

(And thank you also for popping those tricky pimples, handing me toilet paper when I'm out, talking to me on the phone when I'm walking in the middle of nowhere, listening to me bitch and moan, giving pep talks, holding hair, receiving and returning scary Snapchat selfies, countless outfit approvals, for helping me hide the body, and keeping my secrets.)

And you have to be here forever. Because you just know too much.

We're the baddest squad around.

And we always will be.

Love you, always.

Tag your squad, because there's no one quite like 'em.