Unashamed Truths of a Middle Class Twenty Something

I'm figuring it all out as I go.

To My Best Friend

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I’ve had my fair share of “best” friends. It wasn’t until two years ago that I met the woman who would become my truest friend. Two things made our friendship unlikely: we’re four years apart in age and three grades. It definitely doesn’t hinder a friendship, but as a senior and freshman in college, it made us mismatched. Within about a week of first meeting, we were inseparable.

We have a saying: If you like Kelsey, you’ll like me. If you like me, you might like Kelsey. We’re the same, except Kelsey is grumpier/moodier than I am.

I’m four years older. She likes to call me old. But she never minded my feeble age when she spent a year lounging in my off-campus apartment full of comfy furniture and yummy food.

She has come with me every time I have lectured at Iowa State.

Within six months of being friends, we went on a trip to San Diego. It was amazing! And I can’t wait to have another, longer trip together.

She has defended me and stayed my friend when she was met with criticism and close-mindedness. I was not the easiest person to be friends with in college, but she stood by me. She accepted me for the crazy person I am.

We talk constantly. I always know everything that’s going on in her life and vice versa. Even though we haven’t lived close in over a year, we haven’t missed a beat.

We have big plans. Both of us. Plans that always include each other, our own dreams, each other’s dreams, mutual goals, and of course food/traveling together.

When she’s having a bad day we watch Pitch Perfect over and over again. When I have a bad day, she makes me creme brulee.

Now that we’re far apart we Skype and call often.

Last year, she was missing me. So I bought a bunch of small gifts and cards. Each of them said “Open when…” ex: you’re having a bad day, you’re celebrating, you’re missing the apartment, it’s Halloween, etc.

We always say “I love you.” Not “love ya” or “luv you” or “<3 u.” ALWAYS “I love you.” There is a difference. One word makes a difference.

We never wear pants at home. We just hate pants.

We always start our bad ideas out with “don’t judge but…” Not because we think the other will judge, but because we’re trying not to judge ourselves.

We have no secrets from the other.

When I don’t know what I want, I ask her. Food, future, clothes, boys, homework, etc.

A couple weeks ago, we were running errands together, and I didn’t know what toothbrush to get. She replied with “You want soft bristles because your gums are sensitive.”

I would NEVER want to play never-have-I-ever with her… Usually I win because I’m prudish, but she knows all the specifics and would make me lose.

When my PTSD is bad or my crazy is showing or I’m sad or I’m lonely she is always there. She has been there unwaveringly for me through more of my shit than almost anyone else. She knows all of my triggers, my ticks, my stories, my idiosyncrasies. She has been my protector and my shelter from so many situations that would have ended poorly otherwise.

Sometimes we speak in nothing but French to each other, and it is awesome.

I know, no matter what, she will always have my back. I can tell her anything, ask her anything, be a complete and total mess, and she will always be there.

Maybe I will never get married. Maybe I will never again fall in love. Maybe I will never have kids. Maybe I will never find another romantic partner. But I know I found my partner. I can’t imagine my life without her. I don’t want to anyways. She is a pivotal part of who I am today, and where my future is going. So many people come and go in life: romantic partners and friends. She is one person I am certain I will never have to live without.

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Author: Midwestern Twenty Something

RaeAnna is a wanderer on a mission; though, she's not always sure what that mission is. Taking on adulthood with a sense of humor, a book, and her dog, she's ready to conquer the world. Unafraid to celebrate her faults or photograph her tumbles, she aims to help people see life as an ever-rolling, lopsided wheel instead of the perfectly manicured and Instagrammably stationary square we wish it were.

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