Or really one friend in particular.
Last week, I came home and looked through our mail. I was pleasantly surprised to find a package from my friend down South. In the package was a card and cute little bracelet with an octopus on it – named Cthulhu. We’ve been friends since we were thirteen. I thought her a little odd (she was wearing shoelaces in her hair) and she thought me to be aloof (something that has persisted to this day. It’s not aloofness, it’s shyness.
Anyway, since that day we were fast friends. When she moved halfway through the school year, I was heartbroken but we managed to stay in touch and visit each other when the occasion came up (usually in the summers). In between visits we’d call each other every other weekend and stay on the phone for roughly two hours. She finally ended up about a thousand miles south from where we met. She’s still there today with her husband, her two kids, her dog, her cat, and her mother-in-law. We talk as much as we can – which isn’t often enough, in my opinion. But you know, our lives get in the way of our marathon talks.
We send each other letters, postcards, cards, and little care packages for each other’s families. Texts are sent throughout the day. No, it’s not the same. But it won’t ever be the same. We’re not those girls anymore and we don’t need to be. Our friendship has evolved throughout the years and most likely will continue.
She has been through everything with me (long distance, of course) and I have been through everything with her. We have shoe boxes filled with letters from each other. Pictures decorate both of our houses from the times when we were together and apart.
The point is (and I promise I have a point) she’s the sister I never had. We don’t agree on many things but that’s okay. We’re still friends and that’s what counts.