Happy Birthday, Kristen

When I first met you, I was afraid of you. I thought you were going to hate me and Patrick had built you up so much that I thought you would dismiss me as just your brother's girlfriend. I don't remember you being impressed with me at all and my fear had come true. You were a mystery to me besides what Patrick had clued me in on and I wanted so very badly to start talking to you at a mile a minute to gain any information I could.

I remember the first time that I wished we could be friends. I had read a story you wrote about a girl who had just committed suicide and what her last foggy, hazy thoughts were. It was amazing and I was so out of your league. I saw you at Christmas and sporadic holidays until you moved out of the apartment with Ray and we decided to move in together.

I barely knew you but it was one of the best things I've ever done for my maturity, for my sanity. It taught me so many things. YOU taught me so many things. Who knew I'd learn how to cook even the simplest things (fucking rice)? Who knew Showtime had soft porn? Who knew I'd learn that having a guy in your life at all times ISN'T the best way for a relationship to thrive? The reason we fought so much then is because there were so many things I wasn't willing to let go of or admit to. There were so many times you called me out on my issues and insecurities that I retaliated the only way I knew how, like a child who only knew how to throw a tantrum. It really improved the relationships I had then and led me to realize the weak, damaging relationships I now no longer have.

When Patrick and I separated, I thought I lost you for good. I'll never forget the call you made to me telling me everything would be alright, how it would get better every day from then on and how you'd be in the very next weekend to console me and make me half-done brownies. Among some other very important people in my life, you were one of the ones to really help me through the bout of depression I fell into. It meant so much for so many reasons.

I can't tell you how fast I drive every time I come and visit. It always seems like forever since I saw you last. I can't tell you how many times I think of you during my mindless, monotonous day. You would have enjoyed that horrible pair of pants that chick was wearing or the way that man was chewing his salad. You might have backed me up in that fight or went shopping with me for KY jelly. I'd have a dancing partner every weekend. I'd have a voice of reason to bring me back down to reality. I'd have day trips to places like intercourse, PA and we could start our own restaurant review column.

But then again, though I don't think it's nearly the right ratio of Kristen to non-Kristen time, I would be afraid to live closer to you. It's amazing how we pick up where we left off, but maybe that's because it's always really great between us. There's no overkill. There's hardly any agitation. And we can talk for hours because we don't talk every day. We have a long distance relationship that actually works.

Plus, we both really like reality TV.

I love you. Happy Birthday.