I remember the day we first met. I was just starting out playing softball at the tender age of nine, and begged my parents to let me attend a camp at Western Michigan University to improve my skills. You and I were the only two that showed up. I remember thinking you were so cool with your long blonde hair and sunglasses, a style that would soon earn you the nickname "Hollywood" from my dad. Our parents got to talking, and we ended up on a travel team together, then another, and another after that. Playing together for so many years, we quickly developed a bond, but I would never have imagined that we would remain friends for over half our lives. Somewhere along the way, you snuck your way into my life for good, and me into yours.

When I think back about my childhood and teenage years, there's softball, and you're in so many of those memories. We've played with or against each other for practically my entire career-- thirteen years now. Some of the warmest associations that I have with softball come from the teams we've played on together. We were so similar in personality, build and playing style that coaches came to think of us as twins on the field, a dynamic duo. If we were both having a good day, we were unstoppable. How many times did you hit the ball a mile long, only for me to do the exact same thing a moment later? When you used to catch for me, I swear we could read each others' minds out on the field-- which made for some pretty unforgettable games.

It's funny, but I remember the lousy teams we were on and the endless tournaments most clearly. We had the best time playing for the simple love of the game, before results, stats and percentages mattered so much and all we cared about was having fun. I miss staying over at your house or at hotels during our away tournaments, playing cards and messing around in the pool. Crazy as it sounds, I even miss when we used to endure seven games in one day in 90 degree heat, fighting our way back from the losers bracket.

With all that time spent at the ballpark watching us play, it's no surprise that our families became close as well. Our dads talked on the phone nearly every day about some fresh piece of softball gossip-- who quit what team, who got in a fight with who, who was injured-- they were on it quicker than Trump on Twitter. Our moms came to be great friends too, and all of a sudden, there was twice the amount of sunscreen, snacks and support. They're small moments, but I hold dear all the times our families went out to eat together after our games, when the two of us were caked in dirt and reeked to high heaven. To this day, I consider your family an extension of my own in many ways, and you're like a daughter to my parents too.

As we grew up and attended separate colleges, it would be normal, even expected, for us to drift apart. But we never did. In the blink of an eye, our senior years have come and it's our last time playing against each other. It's bittersweet, but I love hearing about how you're working to improve with your team and what's going on with school. It amazes me how far you've come from that little girl I met at the camp thirteen years ago. You're another year older today and have made so much progress over the years. I can see you working on yourself more and more every day, and you provide inspiration for me and everyone around you.

We're both busy and we don't talk every day, but I know you're always going to be there for me. You know I'll be there for you too, to talk about fitness, boys or anything in between. Even though we're now rivals in our college careers, our friendship goes so much deeper than softball. I cherish every new memory that we make as young adults just as much as I do all the old ones, and this season will be the best one yet. So here's to this final time around as seniors. I hope that it treats you well.