Influencing the Funk and Maintaining the Sophistication.

We sat in silence. One consumed with the unknowing and abandonment of all familiarity. The other; though secure in her surroundings, was disillusioned  with a false sense of normalcy. Their two worlds were rapidly changing and colliding into a polar attraction...all forces became unstoppable.  Still we sat, but words began to move.  All because the meanboy missed his target and hit the wrong girl in the head with a pencil.  She became my barrier. Little did I know, it wasn't just her physical self that would shield me from years of life lessons and tolerance.  I have always wanted to thank meanboy for his act of idiocracy and destiny. But an explanation wouldn't be necessary. He knew.  From that day, the words never stopped.


Distinction between two bodies began to blur into one orb of girly gibber-gabber  as we danced down the school corridors.  Unstoppable.  Each of us offered more to the table than could fit.  I brought the untamed spirit full of words and adventure, while she introduced contemplation, sincerity, and devotion to the mix. We began to blend.  Friends of all types surrounded us. Pulling and tugging in so many directions, it was hard to tell which way was up. No matter what, we stayed unified. If they wanted to join us, they could come along. But "herandher" became one word instead of two. It was taxing. Just which identity was I? Who was she? Were we on the same path of our intended destination? Oh yes. Our insecurities became minute details. Struggles were dealt with  her grace and tolerance and my spitfire words and attitude. Together, we got the job done. Football games of stollen boyfriends, parking lot fights, and dramatized realizations of desperate girls.  We conquered embarrassing home-videos, oboe lessons, and unforgettable nicknames. Together, we survived four years of orange tanning lotion, gigantic earrings, and poor eye-shadow choices. 


We moved in silence. In distance and in relation.  Miles separated us and so did experiences. High School was done. It was time for a world outside of our square brick building and The Posse.  We learned our individual identities through process of elimination. Maybe we weren't who we were supposed to be. Maybe we were. Who knows. I took more of her with me than I took of myself, and I know she did the same. But I can't help but feel guilty for abandoning that loud, insecure, fiery girl behind. We switched for awhile. Learning what we could in our short time of adolescence, because we were about to grow up.  I'm glad for our time apart. Mostly for her sake. We were never more than a phone call away, but there times that I didn't want her anywhere near me. Fear, rejection, disappointment, whatever. ...and I know she felt the same.  We would swap stories of boys and their kissing techniques, only for her to reject them from her memory days later.  While I stayed caught up in the idea of stability.  We moved again..no longer silent. But loud, loud, loud. And the noise has yet to cease.


We sit together. Still miles apart, learning more from each other than all prior experiences combined.  We sit at the table, as I sip my morning coffee, and she dresses her beautiful daughter. We babble over a bowl of cereal with our morning hair out of control. We sit, usually in our pajamas. We are miles away, though there is only a computer screen between us. It's as if we were side by side. We laugh and giggle as always, talking of life's silly and incomprehensible moments. It's no longer woe's of missed homework or boy troubles. It's a life of deplenished bank accounts, marriage struggles, or terrible two's.  Still, the giggles will never stop.  


I want absolute fulfillment for my best friend.  I want her dreams and reality to be indistinguishable. I want my niece to know how awesome of a mom she has. And I want her husband to realize he couldn't have gotten a better partner in life. I have learned a great deal of who I was, am, and hope to be from her. Little did our husbands know that our high school boyfriend philosophy of "you date one of us, you get the both of us" held strong through marriage. It's a good thing they love us both. I hope everyone has their own Sadie. 


Love you Sadar.

And our Rachie. We most definitely love our Rachie.