Friday, September 25, 2009

You're My Best Friend

Do you know that when I say "You're my best friend," I mean that there is a chute between our hearts? A thick, cylindrical channel of communion. I don't mean that you're merely a favorite acquaintance, a fun sport, or a familiar comfort like potatoes.

I have had the same best friend for a very, very long time. I held her hand sometimes, because it is, at times, the most natural thing to do. We rode home together from school or practice or the game almost everyday. Some days, we took the long way, or stopped alongside the road to prop ourselves on the hood of my car and look at the stars. It was very cold where we lived, and there wasn't much daylight during the several winter months. So usually, after practice, the stars had already come out. Once, we drove east of my house and managed to get my car stuck deep in the snow. We ran home, just shy of a mile, in our winter coats, gloves, jeans, and tennis shoes. My thighs were numb by the time we got home, but our eyes were still bright in the adventure of togetherness.

We shared thoughts with one another and considered the other's just as precious as our own. Once shared, we often pondered them in silence. We disagreed about some things, but each knew the other so well: upbringing, weaknesses, strengths, demeanor, surroundings... We could predict the differences so easily, and we could understand, and we could accept full well. It wasn't always that way, but those are the times that fill up my memory of us. Let it be written on the stone tablet of memory that way. Then, it will always remain just that way.

I've moved across the country, like I mentioned before, and she's far away from me now. I hadn't thought much about moving until the realization hit me with cold tears that I wouldn't be able to see her casually whenever we were just passing through one another's cities. When you live less than 300 miles away, you find reasons to be passing through. She was always enough of a reason to be passing through. It was a panicky feeling I felt, one of the very few pits I feel about being here instead of back home. Not that I don't like it back home, I'm just not much for staying anywhere. Going isn't much for me, really, like it is for some.

My sister, Heidi, says it's my dad's fault. He told us we could do whatever we wanted to do when we were growing up, be whatever we wanted. She says I was the only one who really believed him. She says that even though I only came six years behind her and nine years behind my brother, I grew up in a different world - a world that I believed I possessed.

Just because you're going to see the world with a new best friend doesn't mean that you don't have enough room in your heart for the old ones, doesn't mean you forget them, doesn't mean you won't take them with you. I grew up with her; I hope to grow old with him.

Would you accompany me to the edge of the sea
Let me know if you're really a dream
I love you so, so would you go with me

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