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Meeting my best friend

It was a warm August day,
I stood on this unfamiliar porch.
My hair was too short to do much with,
and if someone looked in my eyes,
they would have seen the nervousness
clouding the blue irises.
My brother stood next to me,
Shorter, though older,
My mother was behind us,
Holding my little brother,
who was just 4 months then.
The descriptions from the car ride,
ran through my mind,
‘She’s the same age as you.
You’re going to the same school.
She’s the only girl of her family, too.’
The door swings open,
And a woman with hair
even shorter than mine,
stands with five children
just behind her.
She smiles and greets us,
tells us the children’s names,
and my mother tells her ours.
I can easily see the girl
whom was to be my new friend,
like me, she has short brown hair,
but her’s curves under around her chin.
We both smile shyly at each other,
the she says,
‘Do you want to go up to my room,
and play Barbies?’
These simple words were the start,
of a friendship so beautiful and unique.
They were spoken 10 years ago.
A lot has changed.
My hair now hangs long,
and if you look in my eyes,
when I’m standing on the porch,
that is now so familiar,
you see no worry,
only happiness.
My older brother is taller than me now,
My little brother is too big to be carried.
A dog now barks,
when you ring the bell,
and the door is answered by a girl,
with long hair, still kind of reddish,
from highlights gone wrong.
There are no Barbies to play with anymore,
they’ve all been packed away,
saved for the next generation.
Now when we go upstairs,
We just sit and talk and talk,
transitioning from one subject to another,
with and ease that one only feels,
with a long time friend.
We don’t get to talk as much now,
we now live hundreds of miles apart.
But the distance does not effect
how we look when you see us together,
that look of almost sisterhood.
The look of a friendship
that could never end.



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