August 22 found me searching frantically through the mall on a quest to find the perfect gift for Landon’s going away party on June 6, 2006

I have spent today frantically searching the mall for the perfect gift for Landon’s graduation and going away party. Unfortunately, I wasn’t having much luck. I went everywhere before I finally gave up on the mall and went to Michael’s to look at the stickers until I was calm enough to regard the situation rationally.

While looking at all the cute stickers and dreaming up amazing scrapbook pages, I was hit with a fairly obvious idea - make Landon a scrapbook. He loves looking at mine, which details our friendship from the time we met at age two/three up until about thirteen/fourteen because I’m really terrible about finishing what I start. Thus, I bought a scrapbook, a ton of adorable stickers, tape, and a variety of different types of paper.

That’s how I wound up here - my bedroom floor with eighty thousand different items strewn about in a chaotic mess surrounding me. A box is currently sitting in my lap and within it lies a thousand pictures (which, sadly enough, might not be a hyperbole) of Landon and I, all of which were taken in the last four years. I’ve found about ten that I don’t remember being taken, at all, and yet I remember the days as clearly as if those moments happened yesterday.

The first is taken about two months after Daddy’s funeral. I was a complete mess the entire time up until this picture was taken. Literally, I’m not exaggerating at all; Landon often jokes that I looked like death warmed over during that period, and unfortunately despite the fact that he’s joking, he’s right. Although recounting the worst days of my existence isn’t a topic that we bring up very often, the few times we’ve talked about it I’ve gathered that they were close to, if not the worst days of his existence too. He says it killed him to see me like that, so unlike the normally happy go lucky girl I used to be.

Anyway, at around six o’clock that day Landon rang the doorbell and you can imagine my shock when the moment the door was opened my arm was grabbed and I was dragged up to my room. Once there, Landon had me out of my raggedy sweatpants and his ratty old t-shirt faster than you can say “peanut butter” and into my favorite jeans and a cute tank top. Yeah… That’s the kind of relationship we had, a completely platonic one where undressing each other wasn’t actually that uncommon (it’s what happens when you’ve been friends since diapers) or sexually stimulating. Oh, ignore the “had” until later; I need to finish this part first.

My mother, Landon, and I were back out the door about ten minutes after Landon’s arrival and we were off to the Franklin County Fair. The fair is a huge deal in my town; everyone in a three-county radius can be found there on any given night. We may not be the richest county in the state but we throw a great county fair.

Landon bought us tickets and then we were off. My mother had her camera out snapping pictures, borrowing some of the crowd’s overflowing happiness and a genuine smile graced her face for the first time in two months as Landon pulled me to the Spider. He held me close on the ride, kept me pressed firmly to his side, to prevent too much bruising for the duration of the experience. I burrowed into his shoulder, a smile stretching across my face. It felt foreign to me, like it didn’t belong, but it’s very hard to be unhappy when you’re surrounded by so much happiness and the sights and sounds of Times Square in NYC. Of course, that wasn’t my location, but it might as well have been because it was just as loud and just as bright. It was, to put it simply, wonderful.

When the ride finally ended Landon helped me down and we walked on an adrenaline high to my mother when Landon turned to me and said, “It’s time for the Ferris Wheel.” I looked at him, completely and utterly baffled. The Ferris Wheel? I’ve never, to this day, met someone more terrified of heights than Landon and our Ferris Wheel wasn’t exactly measly. “I think it’s high time I conquer my fears so that you can finally realize that you don’t have to be sad anymore. That’s not what your Dad would want. So, come on, we’re going to face our fears together, okay?”

I smiled up at him, “Best friends, always and forever.”

“Always and forever,” he echoed, gazing down at me affectionately. We ran off then. Mom yelled at us but we didn’t turn and I guess that’s when she took the photo. It’s a gorgeous shot, a photographer’s dream, but for me it just shows a friendship so deep with a bond that the world cannot break. The photograph shows a boy and a girl, hand in hand, racing towards a brilliantly lit up Ferris Wheel, with a gorgeous sunset providing an amazing background.

Unfortunately, that is not the last time Landon has had to pull me out of a depression. Luckily for me though he hasn’t given up on me, continuing to pull me out of my depressions every time they occur. Oddly enough, these favorite pictures of mine all seem to occur on those days.

For example, this one was in a packet of photos given to me by Aubrey, who wants to be a photographer and is well on her way; she takes incredible pictures. She gave them to me a long time ago and I honestly can’t say that I ever looked at them. Yes, I know, I’m a terrible person, sorry! This photo is in black and white and I am, ironically enough, crying - not something you would think would make a pretty picture, but like I said, Aubrey takes amazing pictures. The image looks like it came straight out of an art museum; it features a side shot of me, and my eyes definitely prove that eyes are the windows to the soul, because every emotion I could have possibly been feeling is plainly revealed. I was heartbroken, scared of being alone for the rest of my life, hopeful, and somehow, I still felt loved. That somehow is explained in the picture too. Three cartons of Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice cream were situated neatly on my coffee table with three huge spoons beside them and a stack about a foot high of chick flicks resided beside them. Landon was in the background taking a step towards me, concern screaming on his face…

This picture reveals our friendship so perfectly it nearly brought me to tears again. Landon’s always been there for me, he’s always picked me back up when I’ve fallen too deep to do it myself. I guess that’s why I’m so terrified that he’s leaving, because if something happens to him, I don’t know how I’ll ever recover. That picture, in case you hadn’t figured it out, was taken the night accompanying my first big break up. The guy, Dave, was a complete and utter jerk, but at the time I thought the world of him. Landon and Aubrey took care of me that night, and the one other time I’ve had that problem.

The third of these pictures appearance wise looks considerably happier than the last one I described. Landon and I were seated on the couch, I was securely fastened to his side, while we look at the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, soft smiles adorning our faces. We’d just finished decorating the tree and were taking a break before continuing decorating the rest of the house. When the picture was taken we were swapping stories about Christmas’s past. It was the first Christmas we’d have without Daddy. Somehow he’d never missed a Christmas when he was alive, he always managed to get leave to come home for the day.

Landon had told the story of Christmas ’96, I was seven and he was nine. It was a white Christmas and after my family had unwrapped all of the presents underneath the tree I called Landon and demanded that he come over and help me build a snowman. We begged Daddy to help while Mom stayed inside, baking cookies and making the hot chocolate we would all ask for when we reentered the house. Daddy relented without much fight, so we all bundled up tightly, I waddled, not walked, because I had so many layers on, and headed gleefully outside. Our snowman looked incredibly, we somehow managed to make it perfectly proportional. I found an old scarf straight from the 60s, Landon found a nice cowboy hat, and Daddy found the perfect buttons for Dingo’s (that’s what we named the snowman, creative, right?) eyes, mouth, and coat buttons. After our brilliant building of the snowmen we started making snow angels. Landon and I lied down side by side, making snow angels whose wings were touching- the pictures of it look amazing, but that was just the type of friends we were. We did everything together, we still do, and making snow angels side by side was just something that went along with our closeness. After the cold started getting to us, we traipsed inside and at the cookies mom had fixed and drank the hot chocolate. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as much as we did that day. It was one of those unforgettable days, the kind that tides you over when you’re starting to slip into depression.

I think that by now you’re getting the picture, realizing as am I that Landon is my Knight in Shining Armor. I’m not certain what that means, other that I need to grow up and be more independent, but I rather wish that I hadn’t realized that if Landon was anyone else I would be insane to let an opportunity like this, an opportunity to have the closest thing to a perfect relationship on this side of Heaven, go. I mean, really, what kind of idiot would I be?

A big one, I don’t doubt you’re thinking, probably screaming it mentally, bemoaning the perfect cliché, but you don’t understand.

When Daddy died I swore up and down on everything I hold precious that I would NEVER EVER subject myself, or my unborn children to the unspeakable pain of the 100000 mile separation, the vast and incredibly daunting ocean standing between you and your loved one. I swore I would never subject us to the agony of opening your door to find two military men dressed in crisp uniform and knowing, without them saying a word, that your world would never again contain that indescribable warmth, that joy, the brilliant knowledge that everything would be okay- In other words, I don’t ever want to feel the pangs of torturous heartbreak doubly as frequently and the knife blades through my heart can feel free to abstain themselves from my presence.

Dramatic? Certainly. The truth? Not even slightly exaggerated. I hope that makes a little more sense to you, although you may be wondering whether or not Landon being my best friend is/would hurt me just as bad and, as far as that is concerned, I’m sticking to ignorance is bliss people. Delving deeply into the plethora of what ifs could seriously cause me to have a complete emotional breakdown, which is not something I can afford to have at the moment. I think it’s high time I learn how to be strong for the best friend of mine who has been my sole strength, rock, and comforter faithfully and, unfortunately, more frequently that I would like. Yes, it is most definitely my turn.

Damn it. Why is karma such a bitch?