Those Nights Belong to Us [someone that’s made a huge impact in my life]

This is for you.

I think five people I know are even aware of your existence. Two of them were around when we were best friends. The other three, I've told because it's funny. Maybe you don't think it's funny, but I do. Perhaps because of the impact you had on my life.

I think we were eleven when we met. Young, stupid, immature, and very, very awkward. And so lonely. We didn't really know that we were lonely, though. We just both needed a best friend, and that is exactly what we became.

Our friendship had an odd start. But since then, I've met so many people the exact same way that it feels totally normal. It was strange at the time, though. Especially since you were a boy, and I had always been so scared of them. But you weren't scary. You were nice, you were calm, and you didn't act like I was an annoyance. I'm sure I was quite annoying because I was pretty obnoxious at age eleven. But then again, you were, too. That's okay, though--everyone is a brat when they hit that first stage of "hellooo, world." We helped each other through it, though.

I don't think I was the only friend you had at that point, but you were certainly mine, so...thank you. I honestly don't know I would have gotten through that time without you. That's not some hypothetical "I couldn't have survived without you," because I'm sure I could have. That was before my emotions went totally whack and ages eight and nine caught up with me. What I mean is, I truly don't know what it would have been like. Lonely, for sure. It's hard to say that I would have had more self esteem...because at the same time, it feels like I would have had way less.

It's complicated, really. I probably would have had more "self-esteem," whatever that really is. But confidence? Not nearly as much. You argued with me so much and drove me so absolutely insane that I had to learn confidence. And, fortunately, you nurtured it. You showed me what it means to actually develop what I believe, and truly believe what I believe. You showed me that I need to have the ability to back myself up, and you showed me exactly how to do that. That's one of the greatest lessons I've ever learned. Would you believe that I do public debate now? As in, I actually stand up in front of people and defend myself. So obviously not me, right?

Thank you for telling me that it is okay to defend myself. It's taken me a really long time to truly learn that, and I'm still working on it, but you did wonders.

And I'll never forget that first time you said I was pretty. I had never really heard that until you said it. And I didn't believe you, but it sparked that first just maybe in my mind. And the spark died months after you died out of my life, but someone kindled it again just two years later. It's on fire now. Would you believe that I'm growing? That I'm just maybe starting to believe it? That beauty really isn't that far anymore?

Thank you for starting the spark. Even if you have nothing to do with where I'm at right now, I still appreciate it. It meant the world to me at the time.

You really wouldn't believe how far I've come. I bet you've made long jumps, too, and I wish I could just see what you've done. But as for me? I moved on. I found a new best friend who became more than a best friend. He gave me back my confidence and my sense of beauty. I finally understand the gravity of the word, much thanks to you, but I've also learned to balance that with the good that undoubtedly exists. I can see the beauty in the mess we're in. I started listening to better music, too. I'm afraid to think about what I'd be listening to if it wasn't for your help. Thank you for slapping me out of my favorite pop trio. No really, praise the Lord you did. And that she did. She was a help. She hurt me, though.

You hurt me, too. I'm mostly over it by now. It's not related to you anymore. And it wasn't some sudden event that made a huge, life-changing impact. It was just another name on my list of abandonment. But that's okay. You held me back too much. Not intentionally, of course--you would have never done that. But you were all I knew and all I felt comfortable with. I had to find other people to sustain me, and I did. But you did hurt me, and I think you should know that. Not because I want you to feel guilty--I just don't want you to do it to anyone else.

I've tried to find you many times. Not because I'm desperate to have you again, or really miss you as a person. I just miss who you were to me and the things you taught me. I wish I could find you so we could compare lives. I want to see how you are, how public school has been treating you, and what you've turned into. There's this part of me that just wants to make sure you're alive and doing okay, too. And I wish I could show you what I've become, too--everything that I told you I wanted be to become. I'm smarter, I'm wiser, I'm more confident, I'm stronger, I'm so much happier, and it never stops. I hope you'd be proud of me for growing, because I'm proud of myself.

Don't ever lose sight of what you've got going for you, kid. There's a lot, and it's going to get tough before it gets better. But you can do it. Just go straight for the finish line and only wander for the beautiful things. Even if we never speak again, we'll both make it out better than we ever imagined we could.