Day 1: Letter to My Oldest Friend

This was difficult! Do I choose my "oldest friend" age-wise, or by who has been my friend the longest? I chose the one I have been friends with the longest. If this isn't you, don't worry. I have 30 more days.

 Oldest friend,
      Where do I start? In fourth grade when you began to attend the same elementary school I had been attending since second? I honestly don't remember much about fourth grade. I remember Mrs. Stephenson, her big hair, and Julie Roberts-like looks. I remember Monica pushing me down by the basketball courts because I tapped her shoulder. I remember the goodie box we got to choose from every so often, and you always always always beat me at the spelling bees. I tried to win. Really I did. But I guess your brain was always just a little bigger. I was jealous.
     I remember in seventh or eighth grade when we had to choose jobs to perform on campus. I always chose to hand out those nasty milk cartons at lunch. It smelled awful in that fridge. I remember when we worked in the office together acting as "secretaries" while Mrs. Wilson took her lunch. The conversation was frequently:

                                     Me: My face hurts.
                                    You: Well, it's killing me.

I had no idea what that meant until I was 25. Seriously.

     Sleepovers were frequent. You'd come over to our house and never complain that it was messy or smelled funny, even though it sort of did sometimes. Boy feet stink, and we had plenty of them around. I'd go over to your place and wonder how your house was always so sparkly. Did kids really live there? Remember that amazing waterfall you painted in your room? The one that splashed off your desk? I absolutely envied your talent. I still do. Do you still paint? I would buy your work. I'd buy a building so I could SELL your work, that's how brilliant I thought you were.
     Remember when your family got stationed overseas? Omg, I was devastated. I thought that was absolutely the definite end of our friendship. I really did. And then we grew up, lost touch, but I never forgot any of it.
     Then Jay died. I had no one I could go to at the time, and I knew I couldn't deal with it alone. I couldn't believe how quickly you were there. Thank you. I know I never said it. But I meant to. I always meant to, and now I can. (And I KNOW you know I bawled through half of this. Can't help it really.) It's been a great twenty years having you as a friend... even though saying that makes me realize just how old we're getting. <3

~Me