No really they are. I know it sounds like something screamed by some bratty, overweight little monster on the playground but it’s true; I have the best friends ever. Actually I should say I have the best, best friends ever. Over nine of them if I were to guess the number. Each one of them close to my heart; each one of them different and unique (except for Jorin and Josh. Damn Evil Twins!). At the same time, each one just as loyal and trustworthy as the next one. Anyone of them would drop whatever they were doing to help me out. I love them. As I get ready to go back to Florida to see most of them, my heart is filled with joy just at the thought of being on the same coast as them.
A baby could have been conceived since I went across the country and robbed them of my glorious presence. As I’m gearing up for yet another cross-country adventure, I’m finally ready to fill everyone in on my journey across the country (For like the third time. I know. I was slacking!). But the only thing bigger than my trip were the people in my life: the people who made it possible for me to make my dream come true, the people who were waiting to help me start the new chapter in my life, and most importantly, the people who made it so hard for me to leave.
But there is one person, my soul mate Emily, who holds a special place in my heart. As I get ready to make another trip to Florida and the subsequent sequel across the country with my “Hell NAH! I’ll never like that Douche bag” best friend Jorin, I can’t help to think of my short white girl doppelganger that I wish to tenderly duct tape and throw in his trunk.
As we drive across the country and forget to feed her, she’ll pray for a weak spot to let the raindrops in to nourish her… but such hope will never come. She’ll have to drink her own tears. And when just enough days go by, and she’s about to die of dehydration, we’ll open the trunk and remember she’s in there. Then we’ll give her a good life in California (I promise).
Wait. I just got WAY off topic. And how come it got so creepy? Anyways…
Emily is down for anything. Anytime. (Not like that dirty!) She’s just a great friend. Calling her a friend is probably an insult at this point. We’ve been through so much since meeting in high school. Friendships and relationships have come and gone, but we’ve always been there for each other. When I was away at college and my mother was diagnosed with cancer, it was Emily I trusted to take care of the most important person in my life. She’s my everything.
Originally, this post was supposed to be about the spontaneous day trip we took to the Keys together. How we made Key West our bitch: roaming the halls of hotels we didn’t stay at, eating ice cream by the sea, and finding our way into back alley gay porn stores, where you leather is on the menu and they have a personalized jizz rag for everyone. I’m supposed to tell you how that was to be our last big outing before she went to Europe for the summer and how I couldn’t see her off at the airport. That when she touched back in the USA, I would have been halfway across the country. Neither of us would get the decent goodbye our friendship deserved.
But all I can think about are all the crazy things going on her life. And how the daily phone calls aren’t a substitute for getting ice cream and discussing our problems until the streetlights come on. All I want to do is hug her. I’ll be seeing her in less than a month but it’s just so bitter sweet.
An alternate title for this blog was “A Love Letter to Emily.” (LAME!)
Love you Emily. See you soon.