366

I still remember the first day we met. You were my roommate. I was so nervous that I wouldn't be able to make any friends at university and was still skeptical since we'd just met and I am a generally untrusting person. For the first few hours after our residence activities ended we didn't speak much. I was still figuring out how to talk to new people back then. We sat on our beds in silence, scrolling on our phones. You spoke to me first and said "No, we are not doing this" ("this" meaning sitting in silence) and asked me how I thought our day went. I was so relieved. And almost instantly I knew that I liked you and that we would be friends. Of course I would find out much later that you only considered me a friend months after that moment. You were even pickier than me. It was funny. You were so funny.

The more I got to know you, the more I grew to love you. You were a different kind of friend than I'd ever had. So lively and unique and genuine and principled and loyal and funny - so, so funny. I'll never know how you felt about me, and knowing you as I do now, I wouldn't be surprised if you still had reservations about our friendship. But I don't care. I always knew that I was lucky to have you in my life at all. You were notoriously hard to reach, but I made sure to call enough times to get an answer every so often. I admired you so much and I wish I'd told you that more.

I listen to your playlists, I read your comments, I still send you tweets. I can't even convince myself to delete your expired cards from my amazon account. It's been 366 days. I can't do it yet. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll save them for the time when our last day becomes so distant, so unfamiliar, so obscure that I need something random like the last 4 digits of your mastercard to feel connected to you again.

I can't exactly remember what the last thing I said to you was. We were getting ready for a Sunday brunch. You came into my room that morning to help me with my lashes. I still can't do them by myself. I asked you how your night was and you said you had so much fun and told me about the friends you made. I was happy. I knew you'd been wanting that. Before you left to finish getting ready, I said something along the lines of "Thanks, girl. Love you, girl." I've spent so much time searching for that moment in my memory. Trying to recall what you said back to me. But I can't. I don't even know if remembering it would make me feel any different. I guess its just a way for me to keep you in my thoughts. And you are always in my thoughts, one way or another.

Every time I see a full moon I think of you. Not for any poetic reasons. Because it looks like a huge fucking orb. You were right, girl. I finally see the orb.