Dear Anais,

I spent four magnificent days with Clara in Paris! How many times in a lifetime can you say you visited such a splendid city with some one you love?

I cannot say Clara is my best friend. The name does not do service to our relationship.

And what is a best friend, anyway?

A confident? A conspirator?

My first recognition of a best friend was through a girl named Lindsay and I loved her because of how her name looked in cursive. I’d write her long letters using as many ‘L’s’ as I could fit onto the page. I bought us matching necklaces- a little silver book with three pages that split in half so she had one and I had the other. She didn’t enjoy reading as much as I did and never wore it. I had mine around my neck everywhere I went except for the swimming pool because my mom said it would tarnish and turn my neck green.

When we moved and I had to change schools, I wanted to be pen pals with Lindsay so I could write her name on pastel envelops. She didn’t want to write. She preferred the phone and we’d spend long hours tethered to the line. Me, listening to myself breathing into the receiver.

There was a day she called and I shook my head when my mother offered me the phone and after that we never spoke again.

Photo source.