an open letter to a pirate

BTP. My dear, sweet, genuine, loving, goofy friend. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t think of you. What I wouldn’t give to spend one more day with you, laughing and singing and feeling completely seen, loved, and accepted. There was nothing in the world that compared to the feeling of being loved by you. For 12 years, you were my best friend, from the day we met in our favorite coffee shop when I was 18 - and you still hold that place in my heart, as you always will.

There wasn’t anything I could say to you that would make you look at me differently - you knew me like no one else, and accepted me for exactly who I was, flaws and eccentricities and all. You used to call me “a little white girl version of Ghandi,” even when I told you that you were completely ridiculous. And I used to call you “Brett the Pirate,” because you would involuntarily say “aaaarrrrrrrgh” like a pirate when people called you Brett, instead of Brent.

You were there to see me off to my new adventure in New York, there to celebrate my 21st birthday with me, there to welcome me back to California when I finally found my way home. You were my pen pal for years while I was away, and that didn’t change after I returned. You were there for me through every high and every low, with a shoulder to cry on and a goofy face to make me laugh. Your house always had a safe place for me to lay my head when I needed to get away, and you were always a welcome addition to our family dinners. I’ll never forget how shocked you were every time my mom made a “that’s what she said” joke to you. It would get you every time, and I loved that about you. I also loved how much you loved animals, and how my mom’s cats would just come right up to you and crawl into your lap.

I can’t believe that it’s almost been 7 years since you passed away, because I still miss you like it was yesterday. And, believe it or not, I still get the urge to write you or call you when something big happens, or even when something small happens - because of anyone I’ve known, you were always someone who could appreciate the small, everyday miracles. And you were such a miracle, too. You really were.

I will never stop loving you, and I truly believe that you are up there in Heaven putting a smile on the faces of everyone you meet - including God Himself, who you always loved with your whole heart.

Until we meet again, my sweet friend.