The first few weeks in college, every story I told were of the memories we had together. Whether I’m showing them pictures of us at prom or telling them about how you would take naps after school every day, it seems like every sentence I say starts with you. My new college friends don’t know my favorite color or whether I have pets, but they recognize your name immediately, solely because of how often I bring you up in conversation.

It was hard the first quarter of college getting used to the fact that you weren’t there to share every moment with me anymore. Even now, anytime the professor makes a terrible joke, I instinctively look to my right to make eye contact with you.

I’m always sure to fill you in on all of the new people in my life, regardless of the fact that you’ve never met them or even seem them before. Even though I know it’s probably hard for you to keep track of all the names, I have to tell you about the snarky comments my lab partner makes under his breath or the way that one girl always brags about her grades.

But despite the fact that I’m convinced you have to be caught up on everything, I find myself slipping college-specific words into my language. I accidentally say “COS” instead of “Computer Science,” or I throw out the word “Firestone” casually, forgetting that you don’t already know that Firestone is the name of my favorite library. I feel terrible doing it, and when you do the same, it’s impossible to not realize that we have new lives that the other could never fully understand, no matter how hard we try.

It sucks because our time together is limited to our breaks (that never seem to match up) and the quick, short minutes that we’re both free to FaceTime. And when we schedule our Skype calls, we have to specify whether it’s 10:30am my time or your time, because we’ve never had to deal with a time difference before.

I want you to know that I’m jealous of all your new college friends. Slowly, new names start sliding into your conversations. I have to keep track of their names – Jen from math, all three of your quadmates, the boy from down the hall – and sometimes I can’t help but ask, “Wait, who is Leo again?”

When you post pictures with your new friends, I can’t help but miss you even more, knowing that they’re lucky enough to go to school with you and share their lives with you. I know that the two of you are making new inside jokes about your professors, roommates, and classes that I could never truly be a part of, regardless of the insanely detailed descriptions we send each other daily.

Despite feeling jealous, I feel so grateful for those wonderful new people that you have found. I hope they watch presidential debates and Netflix with you, that they buy you fuzzy socks for Christmas because you hate being cold, that they remember that you like your coffee with two shots of espresso and no foam. I hope they realize how lucky they are that they get to spend endless hours with you, and I hope they enjoy your presence half as much as I do.

A few months ago, it was hard to imagine getting excited about seeing you once a week because I used to be with you literally five to six hours a day. I know that no matter how far apart we are, we’ll always do our best to stay in each other’s lives. Whether it’s weekly FaceTime calls or grabbing a quick brunch over fall break, it just makes me look forward to the time we spend together more.

Most of all, I just want you to have the best college experience ever. I hope your roommate shuts the door quietly when you’re sleeping, that your professor rounds your grade up, and that your dance showcase goes seamlessly. I hope that all of those new people in your life are as beautiful, kind, and passionate as you are.

And always remember, no matter how far I am or how many hours ahead I am, every time I see your name on my phone, I’ll pick up. Even though to my college friends you'll be "my best friend at a different college," to me, you'll always be the original, my day one, and not "my best friend at a different college," but just my best friend.