A Love Letter To My Best Friends (AKA My Reasons For Remaining Somewhat Sane)

By

Dear my Best Friends,

Girls don’t use the term “best friend” lightly. After college, earning this title is like winning the friendship Olympics gold medal. It’s not thrown around in the same sort of blasé nature it once was when you were younger and considered a girl you’d known for mere hours a “best friend.”

Once life starts to get real – i.e. full-time jobs, apartment living, fleeting love affairs, serious love affairs, family matters, complicated illnesses – it quickly becomes apparent who is best, who is good, and who is neither. Not to say everyone in your life is required to be there for you every step of the way, because you certainly aren’t about to do that for them. It’s just that the difference between a life-long friend and a fair-weathered one becomes blindingly glaring like Kim K’s wedding ring or ass.

And because of that, I am so thankful I have you chosen few in my life.

People change, I really believe that. Yes, the very basis on which their personalities were built remains, but can you really sit here and say you are the exact same person you were at 21 that you are at 25? 26? 30? As we navigate through the everyday, big and small occurrences tweak who we are even if don’t realize it as it’s happening. People move, they stay, they get a new job that’s much more demanding of their time, they meet someone new who they decide to unhealthily put first, they discover a new hobby they like and get wrapped up in it; making new friends along the way. Countless reasons exist as to why friends can grow apart.

But we haven’t. In fact, we’ve grown closer, and I’m so grateful for it.

We’re not always on the same page, and some days, I probably annoy the absolute piss out of you, but we stay. You don’t always approve of my decisions, and we’ve both cancelled plans on each other at least a few times, without warning. One time, we didn’t talk for two years. You got married in the interim, and I wasn’t invited (true story). Once, you said something I didn’t like and we got into it and my heart hurt tremendously. We’ve both held in anger toward the other and have had to have a sit-down discussion to tackle it. You’ve made me cry and I’ve made you. We haven’t been perfect toward each other – who is? But, despite all that, I couldn’t function without you.

You guys – my real, true, unshakeable best friends – are my rock. You can read me like a book, call me on my shit, tell by one text I’m in a bad way, feel insanely happy for me or incredibly down with me. We can make a night of sitting at one our homes with no TV, just laughing about things that eavesdroppers would consider us certifiably insane for. We consider the others’ pets our own – I’m sure it’ll be the same with kids (but please hold off as long as you can, I beg of you. At least let me get engaged before you get impregnated). You’ve seen me ugly cry more times than you can count, and we both know how special it is that I’ve ever seen you shed one tear since you aren’t a cryer.

Time and time again, you’ve picked up the pieces, and I’ve done the same for you. Late night phone calls, unacceptably long text tirades, emergency house visits – none of it has ever been off-limits for us and never will be. It’s part of the whole package.

We both talk shit. We’re girls, what do you expect? But, when it comes to each other, our loyalty and protection is fierce like a mother bear. The times we’ve heard ill-will whispered against you, we have shut it down in mere seconds. We feel genuinely horrible for girls who may never experience the level of friendship we have provided for each other. We can’t imagine how those girls get through each day. Who do they talk to about every small emotion? Every meal they had that day? Every hysterical fart that escaped them or horrific bathroom experience they’ve suffered through? It’s not a life we ever want to know.

I know I can be a handful, and you know that you have a tendency to become self-absorbed. I’m still so sorry for that one time, and you still can’t believe how irrationally you acted that other time.

But we love each other and wouldn’t have it any other way. I don’t tell you as often as I should, but you are irreplaceable to me. Even if we aren’t talking as much one week or it seems like it’s been a while since we’ve gotten together, you are still top of mind, still my best, still my love of friend life. It’s totally and completely unshakeable. Know this.

Okay, enough of that sappy crap. Let’s drink some wine, spend way too much on dinner, and talk about all the things we hate.