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My oldest friend, since we were 7, has recently moved house. She just sent me a photo of a letter she found when she was unpacking. I wrote it when my family moved away from Sydney to Canberra. I said to her, wouldn’t 14 years old us be pleased to know we’re still friends. 
Linda and I went on to lead very different lives and be very different people, but we treasure this nearly half-century of friendship very dearly. There’s something very comforting about having someone in your life apart from family who has always known you.
Just recently I have reconnected with some other friend from primary school, and it’s been wonderful to be back in contact. It’s made me think a lot about the importance of long-standing friendships. We moved regularly because Dad was in the church, and I always envied people...
who stayed in the one place. Well, not envied, exactly: I loved moving to be honest, loved the new things to look forward to, new friend to make. But I have always wondered what it must be like to have an entire lifetime of memories in the one house, with the one set of friends.
Anyway, this letter made me teary. Weird thing is, it actually still sounds like me. I always said I was still 14 on the inside and I think this just proves it. (Plus also: check out my loopy handwriting! At least that has changed. A bit!)
Please unroll me @threadreaderapp
