the stories we could tell

I met Melissa when I was 12. We both played on the same little league softball team, which suffice it to say, I took a little more seriously than she did. She was 2 years older, had a cute boyfriend to flirt with between innings, and put lipstick on every time she made it off the bench to Center Field. She was instantly cool. Certainly cooler than me. I never would've imagined then how she'd become a sister to me over the years. Not only did she let me drive her car before I had my license, she was mostly responsible for my first kiss, became the world's best accomplice in TP wars, drove almost an hour once to warn me before my parents tried to ground me & by the time I hit freshman year of college, our dreams came true and we were finally roommates. This pic was during fall of 2002, just after moving into the dorms together. And 10 years later, she's still cool as ever. Today, she's married to a red headed man, owns a beautiful photography business, drives a minivan, and is mama to 4 of the cutest kids you've seen. And she still finds time to open her front door late at night, toss me a blanket as I curl up on her couch, and let me pour out the details of my own life for which she's always sincerely cared about. Melissa is the kind of friend you are crazy lucky to grow up with. The kind who, 16 years later, you still look up to... and still find yourself asking where she bought her lipstick. She's the kind of friend I hope for my little sister to have. 

Happy 31st my sweet friend!  Love you dearly.