National Best Friend Day

So apparently today (or yesterday or sometime recently) is/was National Best Friend Day.  Sadly, my best friend can't read this until December, but this boy has meant the world to me for nearly five years.  We talk in pronouns, dance in cars, watch the four hour version of Jane Eyre in a small cramped space, and spend sunny afternoons at Special Tree.  He's my nonbiological brother and a better friend than I deserve.

Charlie and I circa prom 2010 

I remember when he first moved to our ward.  All we knew was that a family with teenagers was moving into our ward and happy day for me, they were going to be living on North Side.  Literally every other youth in my ward lived on South Side.  When we found out, Danielle told me that she hoped there was a girl our age that would be at school with me.  Instead, I got three boys.  (I was sandwiched perfectly between two of them).  The oldest, Charlie, did not quickly become my best friend.  It was a slow process.  Probably made slower by our meeting.  Courtney and I looked at each other and said "Charlie, we're going to Candy Mountain Charlie" in accents when we learned his name.  He'd never seen the youtube video and most likely thought we were insane. (Which let's be honest, he's just as sane as we are...which is not very.)
Since there was a thirty second drive between our houses, we started hanging out at each other's houses.  His family became my second family as mine became his.  We celebrated birthdays together and a few other miscellaneous holidays.  (Sternwheel Festival is a holiday, right?)  One in particular is vivid in my mind.  Fourth of July 2008.  Charlie was over at my house and his mom called him because she needed the van.  My mom was still skeptical about me riding with new drivers so Charlie gave her this huge elaborate speech on how he was a safe driver and honestly we were just going to be going up the hill and his Mom would bring us back down.  In the time that he had been at my house though, it had rained and then stopped.  Unfortunately, it was just enough for the van to sink a little in the grass.  Let's just say we had to borrow a truck and some rope before we made it out of the yard, let alone up the hill.
Of course, I have continued to give him a hard time about this, but he gives as good as he gets.  I think our whole relationship is built on a foundation of sarcasm and jokes.  He even picks on me in our letters.  We do things just to torture the other.  Letters with sets of instructions, confetti that makes a mess when you open a different letter, or, once, a handful of silly bands that reason and purpose has yet to be explained.  Or when we were both back home, he'd call me up early (like 9 or 10), wake me up, tell me I had ten minutes to get ready because we were going on an adventure.  And though I would grumble that it was too early and that I hated having my hair in a ponytail, those adventures are some of my favorite memories from high school.
I could go on and on about memories with Charlie.  We had some interesting, fun, and crazy times together.  Get us together and things are never dull.  If nothing else, we'll talk a mile a minute, and jump topics so fast you won't be able to keep up.  And that is said from experience.  People have given up trying to follow our conversations.  I miss those crazy talks.  Right now, a continent and an ocean separates us and we can only communicate through letter, but you can bet that as soon as we see each other for the first time in two years this December, one, we will tackle-hug each other and two, only stop talking long enough to order two gyros at Buckeye Donuts.