IT BECAME APPARENT to me today that somewhere along the lines I started referring to all of my friends as “my best friend”. Of course, by definition it is impossible for all of them to be the best because, well, by definition “best” is the most – implying that only one of the amazing people in my life could be “the best one”. For me – this is simply not true – they are all the best in their own way.

I think I started using this term when I finally understood what it meant to really be a friend and how rare these relationships actually are. My life and my time are valuable – I simply don’t have the time or energy to invest in friendships with people who aren’t the best. Side note: If you are my friend and you are reading this (which you should be) here is the part where you get to pat yourself on the back because clearly I think you are awesome. I do tend to use other adjectives to help differentiate one best friend from the other. I’ll say my bestie who I’ve been friends with since we were 13 or my best friend in Vancouver or from Toronto or one of my best guy friends. Different descriptions, equal bestness.

The irony of this all is that this wasn’t always my logic. No, my thirteen-year-old self didn’t believe it was possible to have more than one best friend and that very fact ended up being the root of one of the biggest and notable (but not that last) fights I ever had with one of my (still to this day) very very very best friends. I am quite certain there are diary entries circa 2002 to prove this dispute.

me and vanessa

This one – goes out to that bestie. The same one who has known (and been there for) every one of my heart breaks. The one who I’ve spent a retarded amount of hours discussing boys, deciphering ‘complex’ text messages and dreaming up our ‘one-day’ dream weddings.  This one goes out to her because she called me this weekend and told me that the love of her life (despite my request that he ask me for permission first… I won’t hold it against you too much longer, Phil) put a freakin’ ring on her finger.

I DIED. She died. There was a lot of screaming on the phone. More like squealing actually. I could not be more excited for the two of them. Congratulations again bestie – you know how much I love you and if I could marry you, I would too.



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