I can’t remember the last time I had a true best friend… I might have been 5 years old? (Hey Kyung!) Perhaps I can chalk it up to a poor working definition of “best friend”. A best friend should be someone that knows you at least as well as you know yourself, perhaps even better. A best friend should be someone to whom you can tell anything and everything. A best friend should be someone you can always call up to have fun, a guaranteed good time.
Were my expectations too high for a best friend? I can’t think of anyone who fulfills all 3 of these components that are likely only a part of my convoluted definition of “best friend”.
I have been able to tell you everything. It is such a relief to have someone besides the empty abyss of anonymous blog space to tell my secrets to. It has been such a joy to have you light up at hearing about the small scenes that make up my day. It has been lifesaving to have somebody’s shoulder to cry on.
I hope I don’t take advantage of this, but I am so glad for someone to cry around without fear of judgement or withdrawal. You are the first person to hold me while I cry, to wipe tears off my face, as clichéd as it is.
The experiences I have with you are all great memories. You helped me try new things; I helped you try new things. I always know that if I spend my time with you, I’ll enjoy it. That has been surprisingly tricky to find in a lot of people. Maybe I’m the kind of person who really only makes circumstantial/situational friends; when I take people out of their “designated” situations, I don’t like it and I don’t have fun.
So thank you for teaching me how to completely open up to another person for the first time since I was about 3 feet tall.*
Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.
P.S. *Speaking of Kyung, the story of my first best friend that my mom tells me is that I hated her when I met her. She was giving me a run for my money as far as being the cutest or the smartest or the most Asian. I purportedly went home absolutely furious with this new girl after her first day of school.
All I remember is Kyung teaching me how to play “Mary Had a Little Lamb” and “London Bridge” on a toy piano, having a love for Winnie the Pooh, and taking me swimming for one of the first times I had ever gone.