I remember the way I love to hug you. I'm not really one for hugs, but there's something about you that makes you so darn huggable. I like the way I could rest my head on your shoulder and close my eyes and just hug you tight.
I remember the way you brought out the most hyper in me. I'm never quite the same as I am when you and me are hyped up on sugar and caffeine and each other's company, just laughing and joking and talking for what seems like eternity.
I remember the way you scared me when I first saw you. You, in your heavy eyeliner and a gazillion bracelets and a safety pin as an earring and your t-shirts with German slogans. It took me, what, a month? before I first talked to you. It was a simple conversation, but it was a start.
"Hey, are you from Germany?"
"Yeah."
"Cool, where?"
"Koblenz."
"Oh, cool, I used to live in Darmstadt."
That was it. Our first conversation together. And it's taken me two years to be able to remember the name of your town. I think it's funny that I can remember the conversation at all, since after that we didn't talk until a month or two later, when lab coat dude died.
It was sad, of course. One of the seniors at our school, dead. Because of some sort of heart attack or something. His sister was in my drama class. The entire school was upset about it. But what I'll perhaps alwayss remember is that he was the guy who I saw in lunch almost every day, wearing a lab coat. And because we were both sad that the coolest guy at our school had died, we started talking. So I'm happy that the tragedy brought forth one of the greatest friendships I've ever had.
I remember when you started going out with Jacob. Neither of us thought it was going to last. He was, really, just some weirdo who talked to me occasionally. I didn't like him much. You didn't either. You and me both thought it would last maybe a week. It'll be a year in October. A year. Totally crazy.
I remember that, of all the times I've gone to your house, I've left your house with my shoes on my feet, like, four times. Total. Almost every single time, I've left the house carrying them. Raining or not. I don't know why, I just don't wear my shoes leaving your house. It's weird.
I remember our trips to Walmart. There've been a load of them. For Cheez-its and Mountain Dew and flip flops and purple shirts and everything else. And we've had Nerf fights and wandered and sat in McDonalds eating our cheesy crackers of goodness. And, twice, sat on little kid chairs and watched Beauty and the Beast in the electronics section. That's how we met James, that weirdo senior guy. He's pretty cool.
I remember our trips to the mall, too. I've alwayss hated shopping, but that's what's great about going with you. We don't shop. We've only tried things on there, like, three or four times. But I like just wandering with you. We talk and joke and try on high heels that neither of us, you especially, can actually walk in and keep saying things like "That's cute" and never buy anything but Starbucks and smoothies.
I remember when we drew 99 red balloons with chalk, because of the song. And then we were really hyper so we were taking pictures of a bottle of Sprite, and you posted them on Facebook as "Sprite in its natural environment." And then we found a little toy turtle and named it Captain. I think Hailey still has it.
I remember your Halloween-birthday party, where we made costumes to be King Arthur and Patsy from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. And Jacob was a tetris block. And Drew had a Guy Fawkes mask, which I thought was amazing because I'd just watched V for Vendetta the day before. And we all got really hyper and crazy, but then that one annoying girl from your soccer team spent the night and that kind of sucked.
I remember Back to the 80's, when I was super hyper and we were singing along to half the song, like "Come on, Eileen" and "Video Killed the Radio Star." I think that was the start of us singing in public pretty much wherever we went. And it was so much fun.
I remember so many things about how we've spent the past two years. They've been loads of fun. We've never had a fight or an argument that mattered, and we've watched all of seasons one-five of The Office, and we've stayed up all night and then walked to Starbucks, and we've done a million, billion other things together. The cliche thing would be for me to say I love you like a sister, but I don't. We both have sisters, and we know that loving sisters is having fun with them and arguing with them and barely tolerating them. I don't even know what I love you like, but it's a kind of love that means sharing secrets and never fighting and knowing what to say and when to not say anything and being able to read each other's minds and having nine thousand inside jokes with and telling everything to.
I think I love you like a best friend, in fact.
I know you'll never read this. You'll never even know I wrote this. But I know that you know all the things I've mentioned in this. I can't believe that now we're saying goodbye for real, for the last time. But I'll always remember you.