I don't remember the first words we spoke
to each other, but I’d like to think that at age five we were lovely and bonded
over a box of crayons rather than cutting off chunks of each other’s hair.
At age nineteen I sit here with a joy in my
heart so forceful that I could probably (definitely) cry. She’s worked her way
into every single crack of my life, embedding her name into most of my passwords,
fourteen to be my lucky number, and my long-time daydream being fleeing the
country with her.
We’ve danced until early in the morning in
different cities to bands we love and fallen asleep in a still drunken haze
next to each other, midway through a serious discussion of what the fuck that noise is in the lounge room and how far away is Lilydale? Each day I
fall madly in love with this ever-growing friendship.
This is a lifelong thing. This is the stuff
that people make movies about and everyone cries because one of them gets
cancer and the other one offers to chop off a limb to help her live (get cancer
and you’re cut) and they live happily ever after consuming lots of peppermint
tea and raw chocolate. If there were to be a musical component, I’d suggest the
Hilary and Haylie Duff rendition of ‘Our Lips Are Sealed’, which Alannah and I
learnt and choreographed in one afternoon.
We never got mistaken for sisters, regardless
of how hard I wished to get the news that we were separated at birth. But
seeing Alannah’s bright smile at 7.30 in the morning before an eight-hour day
at uni, or hearing her endless giggles over the phone while asking if I’ve got
icing sugar- it’s impossible to believe that this isn’t family.
Relationship articles will always tell you how
important it is for you and your partner to grow separately. It’s funny how
these years have shaped the two of us as individuals, yet time makes us slot
into each other even easier than the year before. It all matches up. We match up. Our school and work
timetables, right down to our sleeping patterns all match up like a jigsaw
puzzle.
So here’s my conclusion- we’re soul mates.
It’s fate. Meant to be. And also that maybe relationship columns can relate to
friends, too.
Brilliant Caitlin. X
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