Thought you might enjoy a little background info on the dude I'm going to see tonight. He needs a name. Let's call him Miller. It's an appropriate name, and, no, you don't get to know why it's appropriate. Deal with it.
Miller and I were close friends from a very young age. Starting in junior high, we called each other every night and talked for hours. I distinctly remember my grown sister making those emergency breaks on the phone line because she couldn't get through to our parents. This was before the days of call waiting...either that or it was before my dad agreed to pay for call waiting.
Miller and I were in the same school activities. We played the same sport. We arranged our schedules so we'd have the same classes. We went to church together. We went to the lake together. We spent almost every day after school together. We told each other secrets that no one else knew. I once popped a painful zit on his back he couldn't reach. He once held my hair when I vomited. He painted my toenails for me. I rubbed sunscreen on his back and shoulders (he was a pale sonofabitch). He helped me with my tennis serve. I helped him shop for his Homecoming outfit. He was my best friend.
We never dated. For a long time, we never even discussed it even though everyone around us (especially our families) wondered why we weren't a couple. At some point, though, the same thought occurred to us - why had we never dated? We did couple-y things. We watched movies on his couch. I'd throw my legs on his lap, and he'd rub my feet. He'd put a pillow in my lap, and I'd run my fingers through his hair. Sometimes when we ended our phone conversations, we'd say, "Love you more than anyone." It remains the most intense friendship of my life. Not exactly that he's been the greatest friend I've ever had - Padma and Tamara take the cake on that - but it was definitely the most intense.
Our senior year, things really started to change...and I'll tell you about that next.
Love you more than (almost) anyone,
Annabelly
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