Caitlin is my oldest and dearest friend. I’ve known her for a long time. Even longer than I’ve known Michelle Giarmarco.
One time Caitlin cut off her own hair, and I said she looked “like a ho.”
One time I threw a metal report cover, and it accidentally hit her in the nose.
One time she cried because someone made fun of a fat person.
One time I said, “Nice pigeon” (about a pigeon), and she thought it was very funny.
One time we ate at the best pizza place in San Francisco.
One time she spilled juice on the carpet and I cleaned it up.
One time I gave her some advice.
One time she told me to stop giving her advice.
One time she drove me all around San Francisco trying to find a place to live after I got kicked out.
One time I bought her a lot of makeup. Probably because she is ugly.
One time I acted like a fool, just so she would laugh.
One time she gave me a cutout of a comic page about how teenagers were different, then and now.
One time I hiked her on my bicycle handlebars to Burger King where we ate chicken tenders and french fries.
One time we drove to a concert in Santa Clara, singing songs in the car the whole way.
One time I was sick and lived alone, and she brought me tea.
One time she said I was a bad person, but she didn’t mean it; she was just scared.
One time I said she was an idiot, but I didn’t mean it; I was just annoyed.
One time we decided to take the long way home.
One time she said, “I love you.” And one time I said it back.