Jen M. and Frannie K., Best Friends Circa 2000

I wish I could say that our friendship has been perfect, but the truth is far from it. We’ve gone through our fair share of numerous altercations, exchanges of curt retorts and remarks, and several periods during which we had no clue of each other’s existence. I’d like to call it a humbling process……to my understanding of appreciation—a very much needed sophistication to my worldliness. But we have also shared a shitload of memories, most of which we both can never get back. Before they’d fade with the rest of my memories due to the sad consequences of alcohol detriment, I thought I’d start regurgitating 11 years of friendship here. 

The times we spent as numbers in Mrs. Pentecost’s fifth grade class. I was #11, you were #12. The first memory I have of you is that bright red elmo shirt you had on on our first day of school.

How we would plan in advance so that during the week, we could wear our pastel colored Limited Too outfits together in middle school.

Crying over our first dumb B in Ms. Cousar’s english class.

Flipping the shit out again when we found out she was teaching ninth grade.

The times you would curl my hair before we’d get all dressed up to go to a middle school dance. How we would whisper and giggle while staring at the boys that were on the other side of the dance floor.

My invitation to your birthday sleepover party— it was during the year the Backstreet Boys decided to team up with Burger King.

That time I was a fifth wheeler—you and Jonathan, Carolyn and Adrian—and took Starshots.

When everyone forced you to kiss William outside the courtyard and how awkward that was for you. I’m pretty sure I was much more ecstatic than you.

The times we would test each other the vocab words on our Spanish quizzes….over the phone.

How amazed I was every single time you would read Korean off the street.

That hot summer in 2002. You picked me up from the airport after I came back from nerd camp and gave me a mini statue of two bears. 

Remember when we used to exchange notebooks? It was system of writing to each other about our days even when we really had no life.

To observe is not to have. To observe is to watch is to remark is to perceive is to notice is to remember and to keep, but you will never have any of this ever again.

Congratulations on your engagement.

Love you,

Frannie