We are probably two of the most unathletic people out there. Naturally, senior year we signed up for intramural Pickleball and laughed our way to the losers’ bracket real quick. Like, quicker than I thought was possible. We were team 4Peat: four years of living together, four years of sharing a bathroom, four years of not playing sports, four years of stuffing Cheez-Its in our mouths instead of running, four years of sitting on the couch talking deep and wide while the world was out there going crazy.
We’re the same. But from day one, we’ve balanced each other out too.
I baked Oreo balls for our freshman hall, you did the talking when we passed them out.
I was dry like sand, you shed enough tears for both of us.
I chattered about stories, you chattered about school.
I talked about falling in love like it was an invention, you just lived it and lived it well.
You’ve taught me a lot about love over the last five years—how it starts as a feeling and ends in a choice. You fell in love with Brady with your heart and chose to stick with him with your head, emotion and decision. I know this because it’s how you love everyone—your family, your friends. You stalked me on Facebook (not a joke) and went with your gut when you asked me to be your roommate after one meeting. But then you chose to stick it out over the next four years and not back down.
That much loyalty is a rare thing, Whit. Everyone told us that. By the time graduation rolled around, people were saying things like, “Do you know how lucky you are?” And, “Really? All four years of college?” Yeah, really. All four years. And I had a top bunk for a quarter of it and probably still have a skull fracture too (you’re welcome).
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I got halfway through this post and thought, “What am I really trying to say here?” And I guess that’s just it. That this has been our life and it’s just going to keep going on and on. You getting married is the next step in this awesome journey of friendship, and I am so excited. I am so excited for you, and I am so excited for me. Because when you gain a husband tomorrow, I’ll gain a brother.
Though we’ll never again be roomies, we always will be, really. Like my pal Stephen says,
“Maybe…there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends—maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for… No good friends. No bad friends. Only people who you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.”
You’ve built a little house in my heart, and that makes you my forever roomie. Thanks for standing by me when I’ve been hurt and helping me feel not so lonely. Thanks for always being worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Stephen isn’t wrong about many things, but he was wrong about one thing. There are such things as good friends—and you’re one of the best.
I can’t wait to see you marry your love tomorrow. I’ll be cheering you on all the way!