Dear Page Turner,
That is the perfect name for you because everyone wants to see exactly what you will do next.
And, oh, do you keep us guessing!
Yours is one of the few friendship from high school that I packed up along with my diploma and pictures of bad hair and tacky dances and took with me. Because it was too valuable to leave behind.
I wish I had a picture to post of our years together, but that was before digital.
(I feel so old all of a sudden.)
You are about as vivacious as they come. Whenever I saw your blond curls bouncing through the hallway crowds I smiled in advance. Because I knew you would amuse me. Or shock me. Or just plain-out entertain me.
You were a year older, a size skinnier, a decibel louder, a laugh funnier and a whole lot prettier than me. But you never seemed to notice that. You didn't mind that I never could be quite as outrageous or daring or glamorous. You let me bask in your limelight.
And what a light it is! Grab some popcorn, pull up a beanbag and just enjoy the show because here comes the Page Turner. I think that's how we all felt.
We popped gummy bears in the back of the auditorium, went out with boys who ended up being gay (how did that always happen?!!), cast our bets on how people would turn out and laughed a lot.
Because under that wacky, gorgeous, outrageous facade, is an incredible heart brimming and overflowing with love and compassion. I always knew that. I knew it from the first time you took a little brunette under your wings and trained me to be a little louder. A little funnier. A little more me.
You got me to dance on tables. Umm, but not that kind of dancing.
You got me to ride in a convertible... On. In. Potayto. Potahto.
You knew that I wanted to break a few rules- but not break any real, bonafide commandments.
You let me be silly, but respected all my morals and boundaries. I always loved that about you.
I have always felt your love for me. Not just believed it- felt it. Because you are special that way. You don't hold back.
And I will never stop laughing about your first day as a florist or the way you shake your thang to Mario Cart.
I'm still not going to let you pierce my daughter's belly button when she turns sixteen.
But I will let you keep teasing me about it.
Because I love you, too.
Always and always, my friend.