Dear Bestfriend,
I have known you for many years. We were children when we first met, only four years old. You were the tiniest in our preschool class at the Baptist Church in our little town, and I was the widest. Despite our polar opposite bodies, we were attracted to one another. We spent all of our time on the playground giggling and talking about barbies and boys, and at naptime we were always sent to opposite corners of the room so that we wouldn’t talk.
You were a troublemaker when we were young. Remember when you got all that soap from the bathroom and made a slip n’ slide in the hallways? Or what about when I brought my dog for show and tell, and you stole him and the staff had to chase you to get him back? These incidents were only the beginning of all the mess you would bring me into.
When we left preschool, we were separated. You to one school, and I to another. Slowly, you faded from my mind, and I from yours. However, this was not the end of our friendship. I was nine years old when my mom got a new job near your school. I was transferred, and ended up in your class. Again, you were the tiniest in the class, and I one of the biggest. Yet, we were drawn to one another. We fought like cats and dogs. I wanted everyone to love me, and you just wanted to be yourself. We argued over everything and nothing, but we also talked about everything and nothing, all at once. My sister had just been born and it was hell at my house, and for you, well, it just was hell at your house.
Years passed in seconds, and suddenly we were in the eighth grade. We both were really into ‘punk rock’ bands at the time and dressed as dark as possible. I wore eyeliner so thick it nearly covered my whole eyelid, and I cut my hair short with layered bangs. Your makeup matched mine,a and you died your hair bright red and chopped it off to your shoulders. Together, we hated everything but our music.
But when high school rolled around, you went to a new school. It was strange not having you with me. I missed you and our long talks. I called you on many nights and gossiped about the people we didn’t like. It was the same, but so different.
When you got your first boyfriend, a lot of distance was put between us. I couldn’t relate to you much, anymore. We were both changing in so many ways. We still talked, but it wasn’t the same. When you guys broke up, we didn’t really talk about it. You moved on to a new boy then fell in love, and he took up all of your time.
We were distant for over a year, but then, as it always had, fate drew us back together. I got a boyfriend who happened to be best friends with yours. Suddenly, I was seeing you every weekend, going on double dates, and laying around at your house until the early hours of the morning. We had both changed so much, our hair was long, our clothes were bright, and neither of us wore that ridiculously thick eyeliner anymore. The four of us were our own unique version of the Breakfast Club. However, as most teenage relationships, he and I split. My heart was shattered into a million pieces, but you were there to help me put it back together. When I cried, you cried with me, and I cannot explain to you how incredibly thankful I am for that.
The reason I bring you through all this memorabilia, is to show you that we were meant to be bestfriends. We were meant to be sisters. Meant to be in each others lives.
Today, you are seventeen years old, but I can still see us as four year olds sliding up and down that hallway; I can still see you running away with that little dog. You are my family, my rock, and you are the only person I would ever want as my best friend. I hope in the years to come, you only grow happier; I hope that you stay that person you were in the fourth grade, when all you wanted was to be yourself. You are a beautiful person, full of potential and love. Together, we can be invincible. I hope as you blow out your candles, your wish will be for fate to never pull us apart. Happy birthday, sister.
With love,
Chloe