Day 2: A picture of you and the person you have been closest with the longest
One of my dearest and closest friends I met in art class in eighth grade. I remember we sat next to each other, and she was a lot taller than me and looked like she hated the world. I was scared to say a word when the class first started. But that wall came tumbling down with a dose of quick wit, and a reel of laughs, and we’ve been friends ever since. She moved the summer before high school started, and in that span of time I think we spent more time sleeping over at each other’s houses than we did by ourselves. I cried when she left, thinking how in the world would I ever find a friend like her again?
I haven’t. We still call each other and talk about everything from God and the enigmatic questions of life to the ridiculous shenanigans we always seem to get into, despite being states apart. She stuck by me in the years when I needed a friend the most, and I’ll never stop being thankful for that. There are no walls or boundaries between me and Miss ‘Bama’, and no judgment either. Even if weeks or months go by when neither of us have heard a peep from each other, all it takes is one of us dialing a number and we pick up right where we left off.
In all of these years, not a beat’s been missed, or an ounce of friendship lost. We’ve both changed. We’ve both grown. But we’ve never grown apart. She’s the definition of a best friend.