I love you, best friend.
I didn't really know you growing up. I have known you since the tender age of 6. Growing up, I was a withdrawn dorky little girl with short hair, and you were the withdrawn little boy, who bared talked, but could ski a mountain as if it were just drawn for him.
In junior and senior high school, you dated my best friend, I didn't know you at all then. You were sweet, a good athlete and student, but I don't think I've ever said anything to you - there were only 30 of us in the entire grade, but we managed to never speak.
All of a sudden, we're back in our hometown at age 24. You've grown, so have I. Physically, we're both the same - I run, you ski. You hike, I bike. You play, I work. Maybe emotionally, we're a little different: you've lusted, I've loved; you've had, I've lost; you've never been opened, I've wilted.
It's October now, and you're leaving tomorrow morning for a year adventure in France. I wish you many amazing sunsets with your first love, skiing, and many unforgettable sunsets with a new one: someone wonderful.
Thank you for teaching me that life is too short and too long to take so seriously, and that true love is not always a person or a career, but a state of living.
I will never forget it.
a best friend, from a small town