This is one of my best friends. You may see her referred to on here as Rachel, Rachol, or Pinchlet, among other names. She looks slightly high in this picture, but it's one of the few we have where someone isn't sticking their tongue out, giving bunny ears, picking their nose intentionally, etc. You get the picture. We have the kind of friendship that people wish they understood, but at the same time are afraid to get a glimpse into the inner workings of our brains. Because we are positively, ridiculously insane.
See?
Last year in August, she pulled a stunt where she went off to college and didn't come back until November. I scorned her for this. And then she came back. And now she's moving off to Connecticut. Because she's sucky like that.
The crappy thing about being a grown-up is that you no longer have that assurance that those people are going to be around to play in the sandbox with. You have to part ways with people that you've spent a good part of your life with and move on and get your own life in your own place and see these people at Christmas and Easter and maybe the occasional wedding and funeral. It's no fun, but it's life.
The following is not for you to understand. But rather you can laugh and pretend that you get it. And she can laugh because she gets it.
Dear Pinchletene Suzanna,
I don't think it's possible for me to say sappy stuff to you without laughing hysterically, because most of what we say is sappily ironic and/or incoherent. I do not want you to leave me here with Abe on my own, but that is what you must do. Go forth and conquer the Connecticutionians. Because that's what I feel like calling them. And be warned that that is my new vacation spot and I will come and mooch off of you. But I'm sure you already knew that. Please know that I will never forget the times that we spent kissing the goat and the giant balloon with the reliving of the birth experience. Walter is watching you and the moose completes me.
Kisses and Winks,
Petrithin
No comments:
Post a Comment