we were sprawled out on her bed, me positioned in an odd manner as always but with my head gently resting on her back. and i remember looking at the slivers of light peering through her window blinds and thinking about how it’s much too early to be laughing nonstop at eight in the morning. and then i sunk into her skin and bones and i thought about how this is so picture perfect, being with her, how we are faced against each other but there is something so beautiful about this moment. i think to myself, there are some moments that are so beautiful you cannot even fathom being able to capture it so innocently and fully with another. and that’s when she says, “i wish there was someone home so they could take a photo of us.” and i say, me too, me too, and i glorify at the fact that she is such a mind reader, that we both are of each other. we are somehow always on the same wavelength, her always playing a song that i was just thinking of or escalates my mood. the way we exchange stories is so beautiful, constantly laughing and unintentionally inserting mini-stories in our big story. we tell the stories with the same voice because it roots from the similarities in our culture. we’re always so attentive to each other that it feels as if we are no longer just a friendship, because there’s a magical element to our relationship and i can’t quite pinpoint it. she told me, “the first time i met you and looked into your eyes, i realized you read people just like i do and that we perceive the world in similar fashions.” we do. we do so much that we sync so easily when we’re together, and it still amazes me the way we are able to do that. and my friendship with her is one of a kind. best friend, i tell her, you are one of my best friends. and then we do what we always do, we lock eye contact and we squeal and shake our little fists at how grateful we are to have met each other. until next time, my love, until next time. i’m always missin’ you the same way i miss my best friend from high school. i’m always missin’ you.