Remember the chocolate milk Jesse? We were so giggly that afternoon on your sunlit porch, hyper as only five year old's can be when they think they are getting away with something. We drank that entire half gallon of milk and almost a full bottle of Hershey's syrup that afternoon, delighted that we were technically only supposed to have one glass a piece.
You were my first friend. One of the truest I have ever had even though most children tend not to have very god long distance relationships but we managed somehow, due in large part to our mums I think. Every year I always looked forward to the letter you would send me, even if the content was just basic Happy Birthday, they were always presented in any interesting and novel way. Some were one crazy papers, or written in overly ornate cursive with gold leafed borders and slight ink smears where you hadn't quite gotten use to the quill pen yet. And my desk has yet to recover from the year we became obsessed with making paper look antiqued. You were the only friend I have ever had who has been able to keep up with me in creating alternate realities in which we could live in character for days at a time. Wonderful, beautiful worlds that were anything and everything we wanted them to be.
I cursed the rain spring of junior year. All those days of trying to figure out how to meet up at NMH, if only for a few minutes, when I was on campus with my high school's softball team. And all those days of having to cancel and reschedule only to have the next game rained out as well. The laughing conversation we had by phone about how busy it was, the craziness that is high school, and how once senior year was over we would, somehow, find a way to see each other. Now I feel like I'm rambling, or maybe just no longer forming coherent sentences, which I always seem to do when talking or write to you. I jump from one subject to the next always assuming that you will be able to follow my printed words as easaly as you follow my train of thought when we are speaking. Therefore I will stop writing for now with a simple thank you. Thank you for opening my eyes to the world and for being yourself, which sounds corny I know. Thank you for your life
Love as always