Dearest Diana:

Let me start this very lengthy letter by thanking you for everything you have ever done for me. For warming up to me way back way in fifth grade and laughing at my awkward small talk, for being on my side when Kevin got offended that I called him a brown boy (like is he not?), for reconstructing our friendship in Irma's class, and for listening to my endless everyday problems that most people would be so done with hearing by now (THE CHICK-FIL-A GUY ONLY GAVE ME ONE RANCH WHEN I ASKED FOR TWO!)

Everyone who's ever had a best friend will tell you that they're like so-and-so best friends from so-and-so show or that they're "totally best-friend goals" but we're not like that at all. We don't show it off because we just know that we're the best and the cutest. Like when you send me links to funny Vines and I tell you to listen to Ariana or Adele's new songs and you ignore me. We even plan how we're going to decorate our future apartment together and what matching tattoos we're going to get in the summer. You know, just best-friend things.

But every now and then I like to think of the day you told me that you were going to go to Texas State in the fall. Of course, I was supportive of your decision and I encouraged you to pursue anything you wanted to do even though the pain in my heart kept saying "please don't leave me." When we took our cute graduation picture (see above) I didn't feel sad anymore because it was time for the both of us to explore different horizons. And it also turned out that that summer was the greatest summer ever for us. We literally spent almost every day together. From sushi dates or making life difficult for H&M employees or meeting your amazing parents and funny little brothers (JON SNOW IS NOT DEAD! HE'S JUST NOT!) It was endless adventure night after night. But then came the last night. The night neither one of us wanted to arrive. When you started saying goodbye to everyone, that feeling started creeping up again. That I would have to say goodbye and the ache of not being able to physically see you for a couple of months. You and I went outside, said something to each other and we started bawling and hugging each other for ten minutes. Then you left. And I stayed in the empty hallway waiting for you to come back, hoping that maybe you had changed your mind.

But alas.

Even though we were 588.4 miles apart, nothing seemed to have changed. You came back for Eastwood's homecoming (for reasons unknown), and you left me hanging for your band friends (YOUR BAND FRIENDS!) And I was so mad at you but you came back a week later and you took me out to Grimaldi's for an early birthday dinner and you bought me the Weeknd and Lana Del Rey albums and I was genuinely content. Not because of the presents but because you basically came back another weekend for me. We would always be Skyping and I would serenade you (Suddenly Seymour & Wildest Dreams being among some of my favorite selections). We literally text everyday from sunrise to sunset, here's an excerpt of how most of our conversations go down:

Me: Good morning

*two hours later*

Diana: Good morning, *insert excuse*

Me: About damn time!
*argues for about three hours*

Me: omg okay

Diana: ILYSM

Me: ILYSSM

Diana: I don’t think so

Me: omg

*argues for another three hours*

Even when you came back for both winter and spring breaks, nothing had changed at all, everything was great and hilarious and dramatic, just the way it should bee. But then it all would've gone to hell once you got your job. Me being me, I assumed the worst and that you getting your job would mean you neglecting me and then ultimately the death of our friendship because you would have so much going on. But you would text me before and after work, during your breaks, and it was nice and reassuring for me. That you love this friendship almost as much as I do. Almost.

Diana, I want to write you a book because this letter just simply isn't enough. Not enough to describe how bad I feel about not putting enough effort in that article I wrote for you for Mr. Stovall. How overwhelmed with emotion I got when you showed up and surprised me at Beto's house during winter break. How lit I get when you make me watch "Not Another Teen Movie" but you refuse to watch "Glee," like OK! I want to write you a book about how no matter one of us f's up, we won't always agree with what we did but we won't judge one another. That's all we really need really, support. I want to write Aurora a letter to thank her for driving me home at 1 in the morning on multiple winter nights. I want to write Adrian (Sr.) a letter for the kind words he said to your mom about me. I want to write you an apology letter because I totally watched American Horror Story without you and I had to pretend like I hadn't so you wouldn't get mad at me. I want to write you a book about how we die every time we watch the opening to the "Office's" "Stress Relief" episode, how we literally watched all eight "Harry Potter" movies and quoted them, how you attacked me during the "Hunger Games" and watched over me at Coachella. I want to write about every single feeling, thought, aspect of our friendship because the world should know that a Libra and a Scorpio became friends because I was so funny. Like "Fox and the Hound," where I'm obviously the fox. I really don't think I could be where I am now if it weren't for your undying support & your guiding hand pushing me when I constantly doubt myself.

I love you so much, Dianita. Yeah, it still kills me that you're not a 10-minute drive away from me but that's just the way it goes, right? But you're always there for me. At 7 in the morning when I text you good morning or at 3 in the morning when I have an existential crisis or after one of my naps and I need your help analyzing what my dreams mean. I can always count on you to be there for me even when you don't immediately reply. And my family loves you too. You met Bruno that one time you came over & you volunteered to help me clean up after my graduation party.

Diana, you are beautiful inside and out, and you are fiercely loyal and kindhearted, and at this point, I don't care that you won't listen to Taylor Swift's "Speak Now" album just like you won't care that Jack Garratt will never be an artist that will be played on my Spotify account. You're so insightful, intelligent, and an amazing writer, and I know that whatever you end up doing, wherever you end up living, you're going to radiate with your bright smile and your carefully thought out words. I love hearing about your day and your problems and about the cute boy you won't talk to but should and I never want you to go away from my life again. You were just a girl who walked out of my life freshman year, and you walked right back in, just in time, my senior year when everything was a mess. You're not just any girl, you're the girl. The popular one, the funny one, the pretty one, the one who can do anything if she really puts her mind to it. This friendship is going for the long run, so you best buckle up b**** because it's gonna be great.

I probably don't get a say in this but I want the world to know now that you are going to be a bridesmaid at my wedding (where you will also be giving a speech,) and my first daughter will be named after you (also the dead princess and Wonder Woman, but that is neither here or there). And I don't like thinking about it, but sometimes I want you to outlive me because I don't think I could ever live in a world without you in it, because what's the point in it really?

I love you so much, Dianita, and the whole world should be aware of your greatness, your big heart, your dumb loud laugh, and your endless love of Hot Cheetos. I can't wait for you to come home this summer so we can do all the things we've been planning on doing and just so I can have you in my life and see you and talk to you again. I love you, mariposa de amor.

Yours truly,

Jose Luis