When I was in eighth grade, I met a sweet and bubbly girl in my choir class. She was funny, loved to sing as much as I did, and I felt very comfortable being my weird self around her. Throughout high school, she became one of my best friends.
We did so many things together. We went to listened to punk rock together, went to a million concerts together, talked about boys and insecurities together, mocked (and then went to) proms together, and we always sang.
Like some other people, high school was a weird time for me. I didn’t fit in there and I had a hard time feeling confident in who I was. This friend was a major support for me during those times and she made me realize that it’s okay (good, even!) to be a little different than everyone else.
After high school, we drifted apart, as high school friends often do. We stayed in touch for a while, but then we both got busy in our own lives. It wasn’t even until I found her on Facebook that I realized that it had been six years since we last talked.
Man, those six years years felt like one. They went by so fast.
Anyway, a couple of days after I had been diagnosed, one of her posts popped up on my Newsfeed. It was a post about Relay for Life and in it she mentioned that she had been cancer-free for almost 5 years now.
I think my heart skipped a beat. Not only had a found someone my own age who had been diagnosed with cancer, she happened to have been one of my best friends!
I messaged her immediately, and we ended up getting together that night and we spent a solid three hours talking, laughing, and reminiscing. It was so good.
While I don’t want to share all of her personal info, I will say that our cancers were different and she was lucky to have caught hers at a very early stage. However, cancer is cancer; no matter the stage or the treatment, and I’m really happy to have a friend who understands what I’m feeling at this point.
(To all of my other friends, I hope I’m not hurting anyone’s feelings! I love all of you equally and your support has been amazing)
This past weekend, we relived our high school years and went to a concert together. The timing was perfect, because I had been having a bit of a hard day. I bought my first head scarves that afternoon, and even though it was such a minuscule task, I couldn’t help but cry because I knew that I wasn’t buying them to wear around my neck, like every other girl.
I felt different and alone, and just like old times, she came swooping in, making me laugh, and it was just what I needed.
We sang all night long.