“Why Sam, why would you cry for me” was the only question running through my head. But, I also thought about how I’m your best friend.


How I know that you love chicken wings and paintball, that your favorite color has always been purple, and your favorite band is NeverShoutNever followed by Taylor Swift and. . . . Justin Bieber.
. .

I also know that you hate jeans unless they are skinny. Bridges and planes are your biggest fears of course; and when you get your license you’re going to say yes to donate your organs because you say you want a piece of yourself to live on in someone else and you want to be remembered.


You want to be a teacher or a physiologist in order to help people with their problems, but you don’t deny that you have some problems of your own.


As soon as you get home from school everyday you start writing poems. You hate school fights but you secretly love how they make your life more interesting.


I know that you hate thinking of the future because you know you could lose contact with some, if not all, of your friends. I was there for you when you cried for weeks when you found out that one of your best guy friends was moving to Maine and you’ve counted down the days until you could see him again. Then, I know that when you heard about how another one of your friends could be moving you denied it because you couldn’t picture life without him.


I know that you care for all of your friends more than they could ever comprehend, sometimes even more than you love yourself; and you don’t mind being called “mother” when you do something such as telling someone to put a sweatshirt on when it’s cold. You’ve also got a (cute) habit of calling everyone things like “hunny”, “sweetie”, “babe”, or “love”, that’s just how you are. You only want the best for them.


You’ve been looking for prom dresses since the eight grade and you are just searching your “happily ever after” with the perfect guy.


I also know probably the most important thing about you. You, Samantha Marie, hate when your guy friends go out with anyone because you don’t think any girl is good enough for them; especially when it comes to me. You hate every girl I like because, according to you, I’m giving them the power to break my heart, and that scares you more than anything in the world; even more than bridges and planes.


It seems you think no one is perfect for me . . . but you. . . But we’ve tried that before, twice as a matter of fact.


“HELLO! EARTH TO JACOB! ANYONE THERE?” I shake my head to wipe those thoughts away and see Sam’s hand waving in front of my face. “Oh yeah. . . I’m sorry, I’m here” was all I could muster.