I think about the first time we met- when you were moving in to Marisa’s condo and Betsy and I showed up to give you the key. And not help you at all. 🙂 Thanks for not letting that define us.
Over the years, our friendship grew and we simply had a blast all the time. It was great to have another Georgia Bulldog in town, another girlfriend to confide in, and another soccer fan who really speaks the language of the sport.
As we have discussed multiple times, living with you healed a lot of hurts in my soul. You fought a lot of battles that were never meant for you. But you fought anyways. You cleaned up messes that others made in my heart. And I’m forever grateful.
You suffered through me leaving clean clothes in the dryer… for days. You put up with my true dislike of taking the trash out. You shared your own ROOM with me when our friend was in need a place to stay. For months.
[Side story: So Laura and I shared a room and a bed for a while. Girls can do that stuff and it’s not as weird as it apparently is for boys, especially when a friend is homeless and broken and needs a room and a bed. Anyways, one night, we were laying in bed and I was reading Real Simple and Laura was playing Angry Birds and I looked over to her and said, “Yeah, this is NOT how I pictured my life at 30 years old.” And I think she said for me to shut up.]
[Back to my letter to Laura.]
And best of all, Laura, you kept a close eye on my love of fruit, making sure there is an orange in the fridge many days of the week.
You’re a really really great roommate. And a great friend.
The way you love Africa, the way you love your community, the way you love T.J. Maxx. It is all inspirational.
Also, I respect the way you forgive people.
Which is why, Laura, I need to tell you something.
I hijacked your brown flats and brought them to Scotland.
Keep the forgiveness comin’….
I miss you. And so do your shoes.