To my childhood best friend,
First of all, you know who you are. For a lot of my childhood I felt quite out of place, and you were the one person that made me feel that little bit more...'normal'. So this is for you. I honestly could not thank you enough.
I look back on childhood memories with you with such fondness, y'know.
When I met you, aged four, I never knew how much of an impact you would make on my life. Luckily for me, you turned out to be my closest friend for a decade. You were one of the two people back home who I remained in constant contact with when I moved to India, and to this day I genuinely don't know what I would have done without you during that time. I'd look forward to going on MSN all day, going on webcam (which was all the rage back then) and having Mum telling me off for staying up too late. Our online catch ups were a blend between us genuinely trying to catch up, and a competition against the ever-inconvenient time difference. The day after I moved back home, when I saw you again, it was like nothing had changed. I'd moved six thousand miles away for two years and yet when we saw each other again, it felt like I'd never left. That instant feeling of acceptance after a difficult couple of years was just...unbeatable. Completely indescribable.
I recall when you struggled to write back when we were first learning how to do so, and we used to share a chair so I could hold your hand to guide the way. In return, you'd keep me company, telling jokes that only the two of us found vaguely funny. I remember vividly this time when were eight or nine when we were making a leaflet for elderly people and decided that the only thing that would appeal to them is the offer of apple juice. I don't know why we found that so funny at the time, but it has stayed with me over the years as one of the happiest memories from my childhood.
When were seven years old and moved house, and I begged your mum to keep you at our school. Somehow she said yes, despite the fact you lived down the road from a new one. I was chuffed to bits the day I found out you were staying. I would have been seriously unlucky to lose close contact with you at that age, as I don't know what I would have done over the following few years without you.
A few years later, when we were ten years old, for some unknown reason we entered the school talent show with a couple of our close friends. Half of contestants on the show sang Leona Lewis' ever-lasting (and at that time, newly released) tune Bleeding Love, whilst our rendition of Hannah Montana's Nobody's Perfect somehow got us second place, which was rather fitting considering it was far from well...perfect. I'd been a shy and introverted kid at school for eight years and you, along with the other two girls, encouraged me to go for something and tackle something I was afraid of - performing in front of other people, and more significantly, rejection. That feeling of being scared to death for those three painfully long minutes will never leave me, but neither will the sense of relief when it was all done and dusted, voilĂ , never to be endured again.
I don't want to say we've lost contact completely, but we haven't seen each other for a couple of years now and I definitely feel a you-shaped void in my life. We've both changed and evolved so much, yet through everything you've been one of the most supportive people in my life and well, I'm grateful for your existence.
You deserve the absolute world.
You deserve the absolute world.
I miss you.
Thalia
P.S my 'moral' of the story is appreciate the people you have and don't let them go. You can go two, five, ten years without seeing people, but if they're a good'un nothing will change. Make the most of all of the special people you meet.