I remember leaving for college.

I stood in my driveway with Emma's arms wrapped around my neck and thought, "Never." I would never find another friend like her, and I would never be the same because of it.
It was August and despite the early hour, the hot Virginia morning already fell, muggy on our bare shoulders. Thick brown ringlets and freckles merged as our embrace tightened.
My dad put the final box of my stuff into the back of our black Suburban. "I'll visit you every weekend," she sobbed into my ear. I let go of her and got in the car. I remember feeling like I'd never have another friend like Emma again.

I didn't realize at the time that I would meet amazing new friends in college, and that the circle I ran with in high school would only get closer as the years passed.

Emma didn't visit every weekend. How could she? She was still in high school with sports and homework and plans of her own. But she came when it was important.

She always came for my birthday.

I remember coming home to Roanoke and always meeting up with Emma immediately. Sometimes I'd just drive from Farmville straight to her house. We'd eat sushi for lunch or egg sandwiches and lattes for breakfast and go running and paint our nails and nap and read and eat again. We'd spend hours and cans of hairspray doing our makeup and curling our hair, going out on adventures and just laughing, laughing so much.  I remember one winter break, roasting marshmallows by the fire in her mom's house. We woke up much later, warm and full and confused and curled up on the floor together like kittens.

I remember driving to Richmond to get my left ear pierced and being so, so scared. I remember Emma pushing me along and then holding my sweaty hand when I was too scared to do anything by myself.

I remember planning house parties that were themed and had corresponding invitations. We'd plan a menu and invite our friends and wear dresses and really high heels. 

I remember getting wisdom teeth out. I went first, and she came over and lay in bed with me, putting ice on my face and laughing at my chipmunk cheeks. Then a few years later it was her turn and we were huddled under blankets with books and nail polish once again.

I remember her decision to transfer from Roanoke College to William and Mary, and how far away Williamsburg really is. I remember weekend visits to see her and how much fun we have together, no matter where we are.

I remember a lot of things from our long, eventful friendship.

I don't remember a time when she hasn't been there.

I'm going to see my friend today. 
I hope you have a nice weekend, too.