dancing. shouting. doing other great things in the process.

Keri and I have known each other since kindergarten, when we were both in Ms. Mingledorff’s class. This is the first time in our lives when we haven’t lived in the same vicinity. It’s a bit overwhelming.

Keri –

Well. You and I have a friendship that is now legally able to drink, yeah? Things could have gone quite differently for us. We could’ve remained tight throughout high school and college, but where would we be now? Honestly, I’m somewhat glad that things faded the way that they did; I seem to have bad luck with friendships burning bright and then fizzling quickly. Instead, this is more like a low, steady burn.

I can’t remember how our friendship started, but who really remembers much about kindergarten anyway? Some of my fondest memories, though, are middle school slumber parties and general music class in high school with Jamie/Danielle. I miss being close to you; I am sad that we didn’t think much of hanging out until just before my leaving. And I do wish I’d been a better friend to you. I’m hoping that, despite my leaving, we can keep being friends, and maybe regain some of our former glory. And maybe I’ll take back my denture biting threat.

Kat –

I debated long and hard about making your letter for day one. However, once I read through the list I decided not to kill two birds with one stone, and thus your spot is firmly secured on day 8. I realize that you have a terrible time with expressing how you feel about people, and that’s totally understandable. I’m the same, as you know, but I’ve been working on it, as you also know. So here goes.

We met in an rpg that turned out to be filled with crazy people. I’m thinking we should tell people a cooler story. Like, maybe we met in the middle of a hurricane. Better yet, we were both spies for opposing sides of the war. When people ask which war, we can simply look astonished that they would be so disrespectful as to question us, then rant about young people these days. Perfect, no?

Admittedly, I was unsure about you at first. You were quiet, but when you spoke, you were weird. However, as time progressed, and the crazies surfaced, it was clear that you and I had to stick together like Titanic survivors floating on a door. And we continued to stick together through the years. I’ve never been more appreciative of a friend coming to my defense than I was with you.

It seems we’ve floated our way through a great amount of crazy water, and only a couple of times did we manage to nearly drown. While we aren’t quite zombie fetish, purple prose crazy, we do have our own problems, for one reason or another. Those problems have a tendency to clash, and this has caused us to have a few hiccups. You hold things in until you explode; I suck at explaining myself and get frustrated easily which makes situations worse. Things are said that shouldn’t be said, and feelings get hurt along the way. I think, at this point, we are above months-long arguments; I have to admit, when we manage to resolve tiny spats now with some nice words and explanations of our actions, I kind of want to give us gold stars for using our words.

You’re a talented person. I don’t think enough people tell you that. You’re lovely, and beautiful, and you should constantly feel like a million bucks. I know that you get down sometimes. I understand why. But you always should remember how fantastic you truly are. Own it. Live it. Love it.

I’m excited to try and make names for ourselves in L.A., and I can only hope that you’re half as enthusiastic about this friendship as I am. I know you’re going to be big. And I’ll be there to mooch off of you and live in your shadow.

Stranger –

Hello. You don’t know me and I don’t know you.. Based upon my past experiences with strangers, however, I know this will go one of two ways; either you will decide that I have a kind face and you’ll spill all kinds of personal information upon me, or you will decide that I am stuck up and snobby and you’ll give me the side-eye. Either way it goes, I’ll be uncomfortable, but it’s not necessarily your fault, stranger. I should explain, however, that I’m not stuck up.

Okay, I’m a little stuck up. But I try not to be upon first meeting. If I seem aloof or disinterested, it isn’t because I feel like I should be anywhere else but around you. I just really don’t know what to do around people. People make me nervous; I would rather watch them quietly from afar than interact. So if you catch me staring, I apologize; I’m just observing your mannerisms. And if I ever become a published author and you recognize some of your quirks within a character, please don’t sue me. Feel flattered.

Thank you, stranger, for the story fodder.