It’s normally not difficult for me to write a good column.

Usually, I can quickly type how I feel on a Google Doc with ease.

Today, I cannot seem to find the words.

I am reaching the season of goodbyes—the season in which those I have grown close to depart for college. We share a hug and a few tears, and then they are on their way.

However, our goodbye will be different.

It will be 12 years of friendship pouring into an embrace that is bigger than every playdate, every viewing of Twilight, and every sleepover we’ve ever had. It will be bigger than the road trips consisting of the alphabet game and the shared hotel rooms at dance competitions. It will be bigger than the three years of tap duets and dinner dates. 

In the years I have known you, you have never lived more than five minutes away. In a few months, it will be 11 hours.

11 hours of distance between the two of us. Though it is only May, it hurts my heart to even think about it. Yes, the void of space will be filled with text messages, phone calls, and funny videos sent back and forth like usual, but knowing I won’t wave to you excitedly as I pass you in the halls or have a dinner date to catch up after a long time tears me in two.

To be honest, I don’t even remember how we met. I don’t remember what you said to me or what I said to you. All I remember is us being in the same tap routine when I was five and you were six, and everything else we have done in our lives has led to this moment. 

I don’t like to say goodbye to people. I have never been good at it. I do not relish change, and my best friend living in Virginia is something I could never even fathom. I grew up telling myself I had so much time with you. I told myself I would have years with my best friend before we went our separate ways. I may be acting somewhat dramatic, as I know I will see you numerous times again in the future, and we are both already set to be each other’s maids of honor, but, like I said, change and I are not close companions. 

I wish I had been able to soak everything in better. I wish I had cherished the days we spent in our basements playing with Barbies or LEGO Friends. I wish I better appreciated the numerous sleepovers where you made me read for 30 minutes before we could go on with our night. I wish I would have held on tighter to our childhoods because now, it is slipping through my fingers faster than sand in an hourglass.

Kyra, every ounce of my heart goes to you, and my heart is breaking knowing our goodbye is just around the corner. I love you more than life itself. I love your smile, your kindness, your passion, and your friendship. I am so thankful to have such a bond: one I cherish so much that it makes it near impossible to bid farewell.

And, as you know, I am not fond of goodbyes. So, instead, let us make a toast.

Cheers, to every laugh, to every tear, to every hug, to every playdate, to every sleepover, to every dance class, to every beach trip, to every car ride, to every dinner date, to every birthday party, and to every moment we have ever spent together, because those have been some of the best moments of my life.

Cheers, to us.