Don't worry. I'm not going to tell your story. But I will tell ours. Partly because I think it just demands to be told, but also because I've never had a fuller heart than now.
Image credit: Randy Tobias
And forgive me please, because it is so hard to have such a full heart and to have so many things to say but to not have infinite time to say it all. And it is impossible to do our friendship justice in a single post, or two or twenty or ten thousand. I've tried to put the bond that we have into words. I've tried to explain to people how incredible it was to grow up right beside you, and in doing so I've watched them smile, nod and claim that they understand the things I'm saying- but all this time I've had to just accept that no matter how I tell our story, it'll never really make sense to anyone but us.
Which, without a doubt in my mind, is the most beautiful thing I've ever gotten to be a part of and a witness to at the same time.
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We grew up in houses that stood right beside one another for what almost made up our entire childhoods. Our parents were best friends, you and I were best friends, our siblings were best friends, and I think it's fair to say we spent more of our young lives at each other's houses than our own.
The magnolia tree in your front yard was where you taught me to climb it and laughed at me when I thought making it up to the fourth or fifth branch was an accomplishment. The hole in the fence that separated our backyards was where I went every afternoon to see if you were around. Sometimes I'd be upstairs in my bedroom and hear you calling my name from the tree house in your own backyard, and I don't think anything has ever made me run faster.
When we were three years old we watched Mulan, and when we were finished we decided giving each other haircuts would be the coolest thing in the world. Your mom found us not long after the haircut process was completed, and when she asked what had happened we told her, "we wanted to look like princesses."
Coming home that day was fun, I'm sure. I don't remember it at all, except for what my mom has reminded me of time and time again whenever your name comes up, but I'm sure my parents were thrilled.
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I remember almost everything about growing up with you, though. I remember the balloon volleyball game in my childhood room that ended in you storming out saying, "God, Hannah, you're so stupid," and us both thinking it was the end of the world. I remember making Easy-Bake oven cinnamon rolls with you at 2 AM one time just because we wanted them. I remember your dad getting mad at you for something while I was over one night and me bringing you a ton of Reese's PB cups that we ate together on your bed. I remember making tea with you that we turned into popsicles which was one of our worst ideas EVER but not number 1 on that list because we had plenty of worse ones- including the Harry Potter Polyjuice Potion we made out of dirt, sticks, sand, leaves, acorns and anything else we could find in either of our yards.
I remember wheelbarrow races that didn't last long because we couldn't stop laughing long enough to make it all the way across the yard without dropping one another, and playing parachute games and calling you first thing the night I got my ears pierced because I knew you'd be proud of me. Every time I shuffle cards now I remember that you taught me how to do it. Every time I hear a Disney song I think of the way you used to sing them and convince me to sing them with you.
I remember you shaking me to wake me up one morning, asking if I was dead because I was covered in blood and still bleeding from my mouth. Still don't know what that was about, but I'm alive to remember it happening so we're in the clear.
As much as I hate to admit that I used to cry every time I'd call you to make plans and you either didn't pick up or were already busy, somewhere along that line came a day when I hung up and didn't mind. So, in almost every sense, you taught me patience and maturity, too. Thank you.
I remember your mom teaching us how to make homemade pasta, setting up a tent in my living room so we could "camp," and how we bought walkie-talkies just so we could talk to one another from our first floor windows as if we weren't already only ten feet away from one another.
I love you. That's all I really know. I will never love anybody like I love you or understand anyone the way I understand you.
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The only bad memory I have of us is the night I broke the news to you that my family was moving. We were rolled in our sleeping bags in your back room, wide awake at 3 AM as usual because it was ALWAYS a competition to see who could fall asleep first. I'll admit, it was almost always me. But this night was different.
I had warned you before that it might happen, but this time I knew things were real and I knew I had to be honest.
"We're not moving that far away I promise," I told you, and by this time we were both crying.
"It doesn't matter," you told me. "You won't be HERE anymore. Everything will be different."
We cried together for a little while, before we decided that being sad was lame so we started throwing popcorn at each other to distract ourselves.
The next morning felt like waking up with the worst hangover in the world, knowing that what we were both dreading was really about to happen and moving trucks would be pulling up in our driveway before either of us were ready.
But before long moving day was said and done. The house we had made so many memories in was snatched up by a newly-wed couple just as my parents had been, and I had gained a new house but had lost a home.
I'm not even a sentimental person, but that still gets me. That was the hardest day I've ever experienced.
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Life changed pretty drastically even though we weren't more than three miles apart. Middle and high school started for both of us, sports and activities happened, finals started becoming important, birthday parties stopped happening because we were both so busy, family lives got crazy, and suddenly those window-to-window walkie-talkie conversations became missed calls and texts that didn't get responded to until days later and eventually, all of what was left died out.
There were times we wouldn't hear from one another for weeks. Sometimes those weeks turned into months. And recently, because of college and the painful reality of becoming ADULTS, those months turned into more than an entire year.
When I got the news that you weren't doing well and I stopped seeing you around, I remember sitting in the living room with both of my parents going on and on about all the things I remembered about us just like I've done here- but for hours. And I remember going to bed that night thinking, "Damn, I must have really been annoying them, just talking and talking about my friendship like that."
And then I remember beating myself up for letting that thought even cross my mind because I'm the luckiest person in the world to have the kind of friendship I can talk about for hours on end.
And I remember praying that night. I don't pray. But something told me I needed to.
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And now I don't think I'll ever not pray again, because my prayer was answered.
With resounding love.
World, I could not be more grateful.
Hugging you for the first time in several YEARS was unreal. Standing in the rain on your porch- you didn't even give me time to step inside. You jumped into my arms exactly like you always have. I have never been happier to hug anyone or to be back home.
In the first moment of me hugging you and telling you how much I've missed you, your mom said to us, "See? When you're family, nothing changes."
I didn't believe her until I went back through old photos and saw one of us as babies that looked almost identical to the one we took on your couch that night.
1998-2017. The couch was the only thing that changed.
1998.
2017.
And I still have the scar on my back from when you bit me. When we were two. I'm glad you don't do that anymore. ;)
This is proof we were friends through all those awkward years. The gap-toothed grins, the bad hairlines, the tacky T-shirts, everything.
We were halfway through losing the entire night worth of Bingo games a few days ago when you turned to me and said, "Hannah you still haven't won," and I just remember getting whatever number came next on all three cards I was playing at the moment and saying, "But you're here now."
I ended up winning the jackpot.
But I could sit here and say that even if I hadn't.
I could've lost every single game and been equally as happy because you and I were both finally home.
And I suppose I should explain the gift I gave you now, huh?
The painting I made you.
The truth is, I made it to make it. A little over a month ago, just because I liked the idea. When I heard you were coming home, I decided to take it off of my own wall and give it to you because it carries so much more meaning that way. The house is crooked because you won't always feel like you're standing upright. It may be hard to keep your balance. Life is going to hit you at all kinds of crazy angles. Your feet might not always be on the ground.
But it's only {UP} from here.
Note:
if you are lucky enough to have someone by your side as your best friend,
love them unconditionally for as long as you can.
life gets in the way, but don't let it stop you.
appreciate everything.
every minute.
every hug.
every fight.
every up and down.
just love that person.
love them like you're terrified to lose them.
love them like you aren't sure when you'll get to welcome them home.
love them like your world would turn upside down if you stopped hearing from them.
love them.
bravely.
powerfully.
beautifully.
love them so much that you don't give them enough time to step inside before you hug them harder than you've ever hugged them before in your life- even if it's pouring.
love them like just seeing them makes everything right in the world again.
(I am crying as I write this because I am realizing how lucky I am and always have been.)
xox,
- this story is as old as I am and will age along with me
How's that for a beautiful...
wait. this story hasn't ended yet.
Even better.
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