When I was one year old, I met my best friend. She and my mother met in the “Mom’s Club” of our county. When I was in fourth grade, she moved to New York City. I was petrified of losing someone who had been my confidante, my partner in crime for years.
Even without cell phones, we remained in contact, visiting every few months, texting via iPod, and sending mail.
In eighth grade, I found out she was moving to Minneapolis, Minnesota, halfway across the country. I was faced with the fear that I would lose her again.
We didn’t let the farther separation obstruct our friendship. As we got older, despite the distance, communication became easier. We made our own money, planned trips on our own, and travelled by ourselves back and forth all through the past four years.
In January of 2019, our parents planned a trip to Chicago for our families and surprised Avie and I with it for Christmas. We were so excited, we didn’t even consider the temperatures in January (it’s around 7 degrees Fahrenheit, by the way). After meeting at our hotel, the two of us took to the city. We saw the Bean, rode the ferris wheel, went shopping, and tried (key word being tried) to ice skate. I even got pooped on by a pigeon. But through all the cold experiences in the Windy City, my best memory was the laughter we shared, and the common feeling that what we had was an unbreakable bond.
It’s never mattered where we were or how much time had passed between when we’d last seen each other, because we always pick up right where we left off. Never once did we go to the same school or live in the same town, and yet our friendship has never faltered. As the years go on and I continue to have to say goodbye to so many friends, I am grateful to know that ours is one that has endured the most and stayed the strongest.