Before you saw me waddle onto the school bus for the first time, my entire being not more than three and a half feet tall, everyone had warned you that I was a loud, irritating pain in the ass. They told you not to sit with me, but you shoved your bag in a corner and smiled at me.
I tied your pigtails together because you used all the Hello Kitty stickers, leaving none for me.
Later that afternoon my mum asked me who’d decorated my bag.
I offered you a half eaten chocolate as an apology and you forgave me.
I told you about that guy I’d been crushing on since the past two months and you told him within the next hour.
But I also told you who I was secretly rooting for in the custody battle between my mum and dad and you didn’t tell a soul.
I had partied all semester with new friends I’d made and I never replied to your texts.
You called to suggest ways to fix the hangover.
You told me I was being naïve and innocent but I blatantly ignored your advice and did it anyway.
You picked me up, dusted me off and whacked me. Hard.
And then hugged me long enough for my tears to dry.
You and I grew apart as the years passed by. No birthday parties, no gossip sessions. I accidentally bumped into you on my way out of the mall. You smiled, we talked and I made you a hollow promise to meet again.
Two weeks later my phone buzzed
“Hey! I miss you. Message me when you’re free.”
You never gave up on me.
In the words of Shane Koyczan, “when everyone else seemed like a wrong answer, you settled for being my best guess”
You are the reminder of what I was and what I am
And what I am, is thankful.
So thank you, my love.
I appreciate your existence.