Letter to a Friend

I made a lot of close friends last semester. One stuck out from the crowd. We related to eachother. In a school as relatively non-diverse as mine, she was the black sheep. As we got to know eachother, she felt more and more like a real person. As real as I feel, she also felt that real. She didn’t give a fuck. She showed me how to not give a fuck just the right amount. Sometimes more than the right amount. Because she was perfectly herself, there was no ice to break.

We had a lot of fun together. There was plenty to laugh about. We mostly ridiculed the crowds of students. We also had a lot of heart to hearts. We could do that because she knew her way around suffering like I do. Truthfully, I could see that she is a beautiful person. In her own way of course, cause she is fucking wierd.

Her charisma and out looked rubbed off on me. It’s strange how characters enter the story of your life for a moment. They leave their mark, stir up the pot a little bit, then they exit.

Thanks for the memaries dood! Keep fuckin killin it!

Erik Hight

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