Sometimes the best of friends are the people we've known the longest.
My oldest friend has known me since my first day of high school in September of 1990.
I was 13 years old.
I'd never worn high heels.
I'd never been kissed.
I'd never been to an "R" rated movie.
I'd never been to the city by myself.
I didn't even have a driving permit.
Our friendship started before cell phones, email and internet.
Way before career, marriage and baby.
When my biggest dreams included attending an Ivy League college, living in Greenwich village and owning a book store. And, of course, finding true true love.
As adults, during our phone conversations, I am able to reveal the mundane details of everyday life, as well as, the deeper worries that interrupt my sleep.
After all, she loves the awkward uncool adolescent parts of myself.
On the first day of high school I just wanted to make friends, to belong.
How lucky am I that the pretty confident cool blonde riding the bus alongside me would become not only a friend for the topsy turvy days of high school, but a confidante for life?
