soopastryheart

Dear Bewbie –

This past weekend, I watched you get married.

I witnessed the most beautiful bride ever in life, claim a husband who was equally dashing, fighting back tears, wishing I could pull the bouquet over my face (but couldn’t, because those would make for some awkward photos). And throughout the events of your wedding weekend, from the rehearsal, to the mimosas during our hair sessions, to the reception where I watched your first dance as married folk, I felt an immense sense of honor and privilege that you allowed me to be part of it all.

And that’s how I’ve always considered our friendship: an honor and privilege. The day you showed up at my dorm room, a package of cookie dough in hand, celebrating (or was it commiserating?) our first round of college midterms, I had no idea such an act would inspire a friendship that is 8 years old and going strong.

You and I are bit of an anomaly, in that our differences are dramatic and contradictory. First of all, you are a republican. Second of all, you are a republican. You have always had a healthy sense of self, sense of relationships, and a grasp on everything you came in to your path. Me, on the other hand, was habitually a wind gust away from losing my shit. And yet, you always seemed to see me for me, never judged me for who I was and/or who I tried to appear as. I always had a feeling that you always knew when I was putting up a front, but you were patient and let me do it anyway.

Selfless isn’t a sufficient word when it comes to describing who you are. You aren’t selfless in that you let others have the last biscuit, but selfless in that you consider all others before yourself. You consider them during times of trial and tragedy, shielding them from life’s most unfair events… even when it’s at a cost to you. Some seriously shitty things have happened in the time we’ve known each other, and I can only hope that I was there for you in the best way I could, just as you’ve always been there for me.

There are a few characteristics and traits that most people will work their whole lives to master, or even, contain a sliver of. You my dear, not only embody all those highly coveted attributions, but you do so without effort or force, because they are intrinsically part of who you are. You are a person who is, above anything else, someone who is loving beyond her faults.

And once you have kids (single handedly preserving the blonde-hair, blue-eyes lineage), I hope you allow me to become Auntie Soo, because I will unapologetically spoil them with all sorts of ridiculous crap. I will tell them stories about their mother’s crazy-wild college adventures involving far too many pizzas and a near-unhealthy obsession with all things Justin Timberlake. I will tell them about those days that brought us together, catalyzed by sweat gland-challenged chem professors and pothead roommates. I will tell them about the time you almost killed me with a stupid intense workout, the E.coli scare of ’07 (or was it ’06?), and the pilates farting incident that solidified (…gasified?) our bond. I will tell them stories of their mother who brings so much warmth and love to every life she enters. I will tell them how lucky and blessed they are, to have a mother who is the best human being I know.

I could not be happier that you’ve married someone who I know not only understands and treasures you, but feels the same privilege as I feel to have you in his life. He will forever look at you as if he’s won the lottery, because you are a jewel, and a rare one at that.  And though there was a time where I routinely cheered against USC (for solidarity’s sake), going so far as provoking disgust whenever I saw ketchup and mustard together, I’m so glad you two found your way back to each other (not to jump the bandwagon, but I always knew you would).

I wish you two the happiest of lives together. Please name a kid after me.