First of all, let me say that I'd kill to have you here with me. From progressing from being awkward preteens together to being awkward semi-adults together, and to having lunch with your mom (without you) on a regular basis, we are way too close. We can go a week without talking (although we never do) and still know exactly what to say, we can fight over the silliest things and make up an hour later, and we can pull an inside joke out about just about anything. You're still the only person I can ask weird questions to ("what if your belly button could talk?"), the only person I can tell my darkest secrets to ("we're never speaking of that weekend again"), and the only person who has my garage code memorized, no matter how long it's been since you were there ("you have got to stop walking in and eating all my food before I wake up").

I know you're having a great time in college a zillion miles away because I've seen every single photo you've taken at date parties, and on Saturday nights before they hit Instagram. We've exchanged Snapchat videos to meet all of each other's new friends, and we've talked on the phone for hours every week. But that doesn't change how much I wish I could be with you in person to show you all the bizarre texts I get on the weekends and complain about our horrible professors together. It is so bittersweet to see our lives going on, together and still apart.

But the long distance is so rewarding. It proves that our friendship is not one of convenience, but of true and lasting affection for each other. When people say you go to college to find your bridesmaids, they also mean the ones who don't go to school with you -- who become family, out of effort and time and hundreds of dollars saved up to spend weekends on opposite ends of the country. The fact that you know all my friends, sorority sisters, and boy toys by name shows how much you care about what's happening in my life away from you. I know exactly the distance and time it would take to get to where you are, by plane or by car or by foot, because I've Google mapped it so many times. I know your dorm address and have sent you care packages when I feel lonely. I know that your face is only a FaceTime date away, but I always wish that we could get a bagel or sit on my bedroom floor and talk about absolutely everything, or even just drive around and listen to music way too loud.

And, oh man, when we get back together. It's like we never left each other's sides -- sometimes there are tears and long hugs, sometimes there are a million things to say and you can hardly get them out fast enough, and sometimes it's enough to say nothing at all. It's almost strange because it feels like we never left, it's so easy to pick right back up where we left off. When we're back in the same 100-mile radius, we don't leave each other's sides (obviously).

Thank you for listening when no one else will. Thank you for being my person at home and caring enough to be that unshakable rock even when we are so far away. Thank you for letting me live vicariously through you. Thank you for offering to drive hours and hours on nights when I don't think I can adult anymore. Thank you for talking me down from the brink of insanity (once a week). Thank you for always knowing what to say. Thank you for your hugs. Thank you for sharing your family with me. Thank you for sending me funny videos to brighten my day when you can't show them to me in person. Thank you for reminding me how many days it is until we see each other again. Thank you for being a part of my heart.

If home is where the heart is, then whenever we're together, I am home.