Thursday, January 13, 2011

Letter #1: A Letter to Your Best Friend

Dear Shayna,  

I’ve only carried only a few true friends with me into adulthood, but you were the first and for that you hold a special place in my heart. 

I remember the first day I saw you. You were sandwiched between your parents on the pulpit at Sherman Street. Before the end of their set, you picked up the microphone and sang “I Am”. I wanted to dislike you because I was 13 and insecure and you were effortlessly beautiful, charming and talented. While I can’t remember our first conversation, I also can’t remember a day after that one that we weren’t the best of friends. Where there was one, there was always the other.

You came into my life at an interesting time. My world was falling apart and I was holding a smile, hoping it would be enough to make it all go away. It wasn’t. But thankfully you were there. Day after day, phone call after phone call. You made the smile real, often times turning it to pee your pants laughter. 

A little over a year after we met, my parent’s finalized their ugly divorce and I was on a plane to Florida. The hardest part about leaving home was leaving you. From 1,000 miles away, I used a borrowed, pre-paid cell phone to sneak chats with you from my closet at the end of the each day.

The next time I came home for the summer, you were already in Maryland after being accepted into a top-notch performing arts high school. Already chasing down your dreams. Before long, we were living our own separate lives again. Our relationship consisted of yearly visits at the NIYC convention and random phone calls. 

Nevertheless, we remained close enough to hold a conversation for hours, sharing our secrets. You have always been safe. Around you, I open my mouth without hesitation. 

On a whim, I decided to take you up on an offer to visit you in New York City while we were both enjoying (or enduring) our last year of college, you at The Juilliard School and me at good ole’ Ball State University. 

The hour bus ride back to the city was the most awkward we’d ever shared. We literally spent the time trying to figure how many years it had been since we’d last seen each other. I can’t remember the answer to that, only that it was too many. After some Spanish food and a few of Harry’s margaritas things got back to normal. Although some re-acquainting was in order.  Your voice had a more serious tone; you were living on your own in the City, doing laundry and cooking. You were a grown up. 

The memories I have of that week are among my fondest. I still laugh out loud when I think of ripping my pants in Central Park, the disappointment I felt when you told me you didn’t eat hot dogs as we passed Gray’s Papaya, the happy hours spent in serious (albeit tipsy) conversation at Harry’s and the night before I went home, when I sat down on the floor and let you cut my hair. All of it. 

I returned home the next morning, overjoyed to be reunited with my best friend. I’m proud to know you, blessed to love you and grateful to call you friend. 
Now, if we could just fix this long distance thing...

I love you forever, 



A.C. Ford said...

Having a best friend who is far from you is tough. Sometimes, I don't know how me and my bestie do it.

Tiffany Holbert said...

It sure is, I'm determined to fix that one of these days :)

chandra said...

Many thanks for such a write-up. I undoubtedly cherished reading it.
Friendship letter to best friend

Anonymous said...

neajy all leterrs made my cry cus me bff just live me and go avay

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