Do you know how much I love you? I don't think you do. When you introduced me as your "best friend" tonight, I finally realized what that actually means. For every time I hate you, I love you ten times more.
I love linking arms with you at Prospect Park, at 10pm, while singing Christmas carols to no one in particular. I love driving to Mohegan Sun and seeing AC/DC with you. I love our cryptic, nonsensical language. I love dancing in traffic with you. I love that you were in every single class with me throughout high school. I love getting your car stuck in my front yard. I love Mr. Dodge, Cookie Monster, Edna, Gerald, Agent Feelay, Mabel, Cornch, Selene, and Chang. I love bye, poppin' in for a burg, idiot, swine, shit, yee, and I bought this for your mom. I love the sound of death. I love pretending to be Oprah with you. I love going to China Ocean Garden and attempting to shove a plastic red couch into the car with you. I love our cat masks, our endless list of places to go, and our mutual stubbornness.
I love all the parking lots we've reclined in. I love that we understand each other regardless of the subject matter. I love that neither of us can keep a straight face when we're together. I love that you came to Lindsey's First Communion (where the duck keychain you brought me from Spain kept quacking in my purse as we "prayed"). I love going to the casino with you. I love driving to Bridgewater the night before you first started school. I love prickling. I love all the memories I've made with you, but most importantly, I love you. Long live Pinlade & Fatso.