MAREBEAR

Losing a friend is like losing a part of you.  When I was five years old, my best friend, Sarell Diamond, moved away.  We did everything together.  We participated in ballet, liked the same sports, and every weekend we would hang out.  We were like two peas in a pod.  When I was happy, she was happy.  When she got angry, I got angry.  Whenever we were together we were in sync.  One Sunday afternoon, Sarell’s mom came over to my house and told us the bad news.  Sarell and her family were moving out of town.  My heart dropped.  I began to cry and Sarell followed.  We hugged until our arms were sore.  When she finally left, I began to imagine life without her.  What would I do?  Who would I hang out with?  That same night, I called her up and we talked on the phone for hours.  We worked out an entire schedule of when we could hang out.  As time passed, it became harder and harder for us to get together.  We only get to see each other once or twice a year, but I still consider her my best friend in the whole wide world.