In seventh grade I met someone.
We became friends in our creative writing class.
Gave each other nicknames.
I liked one of his good friends for the next two years so we all hung out.
He ran for sophomore council, and I was in his skit.
Then he got me to run the next year for junior council.
Lots of good times there.
Then we both ran for it senior year.
Spent mornings, afternoons, and nights together.
I helped him with math and he helped me attempt to do online classes.
I helped him with girls, he helped me with boys.
We joked about his first kiss, and the lack of mine.
He told me the truth when no one else did, and I told him when he was being a jerk.
I gave him a Taylor Swift calendar for Christmas, he gave me a picture of a fat guy in a speedo.
We played pranks on each other and shared secrets we didn't tell anyone else.
I saved his butt multiple times, and he saved mine.
It's been six years since we met, and he's still my best friend.
And today he turns 19.
In one week from today, he leaves for his mission.
Two years in Panama City, Panama.
I helped him pack up his room a little while ago.
And oh man, he is ready.
There is just one problem,
I don't know if I am.
Who is going to get excited with me when I take out my contacts after weeks of wearing them?
Who am I going to send pictures to of all the good food I make?
And who is going to call me Ching Chong?
I guess it's for a good cause though...
Plus, two years ago we were on junior council together.
And that seems like yesterday.
So before I even know it, he'll be back.
But until then,
Happy Birthday Alfred.