It started seven years ago. She was the kind of girl I never thought I’d be friends with; too badass for my geeky old self. We were in middle school when we started hanging out in the same group, but she was always closer to me than anyone else.
It was her devil-may-care attitude that I loved the most about her, and the fact that she always carried neon colored pens. (What? I like colors!)
When I remember my school days, it feels like a slide show of movie stills; snapshots of moments I never thought would mean so much to me.
I see us climbing over walls, drawing graffiti and jumping out of windows. I see us giggling when the teachers chased us around campus or sent us to the principal’s office. We really were quite the trouble makers.
I remember how her tongue was always stained orange by that popsicle she loved so much, and how she always sang out loud in class. (and still does) I remember the folder that she carried around for the sole purpose of turning it into a tabla and singing ‘tanoura’, she also had it covered with Usher’s photos. (she had a serious crush on him)
I remember when she painted her room pink and wrote misspelled words on the wall. I remember our obsession with anything emo/goth-like. I remember scribbling obscenities on cars and dressing up like dudes in public. I remember the water fights and spin the bottle games. I remember pretending to be boyfriend/girlfriend and creeping people out.
Two years later, she changed schools and we rarely saw each other after that. But that only seemed to make us grow closer. We helped each other through the phase of realizing the difference between right and wrong. We grew up. We made unrealistic plans. We changed. But most importantly, we did it together.
I then slowly realized that I wasn’t an only child. She was my God sent non-biological sister, because let’s face it, neither of our parents could handle both of us. And I couldn’t wish for a better sister.
She’s the kind of person who’d spend the week before her finals playing football with me when I’m depressed. She spends countless hours making her awesome videos for my birthdays. She always listens when I babble about my pointless dramas over and over again. She motivates, inspires and cheers me up like no one can. And I really couldn’t be grateful enough.
Happy birthday Tofeca!
I hope you grow old enough to race me on your wheelchair when we’re grandmas in Italy.
TE AMO SORELLA!