Today one of my best friends turns nineteen. Or, in his words, "It's true! Tomorrow I will be 1 day older than I am today. OH MAN." (he said that yesterday)
But even if he doesn't care, I do! Yay, Mike! You're nineteen and old now and I miss you like crazy.
Thank you for, oh, Christ, everything. For helping me with math and chemistry, for letting me sleep on your shoulder when we used to take the eleven-oh-six train back from Concord, for letting me spend the night at your house when I had the Bio AP the next day and the train wouldn't get me to school on time, for driving me everywhere, for chocolate on my birthday (for coming to my house on my birthday!), for long late-night talks and long middle-of-the-day talks, for basically everything. You and Sophie are basically my most important non-family people, and I'm sorry that I can't be home to come and ambush you with hugs at MIT for your birthday. It's okay, though, because I will ambush you with both hugs and presents when I return, I promise.
In the mean time, enjoy your lovely birthday, visit your sister and then come take the train to visit me, and have a wonderful, wonderful day and so many months until I'm home. In your immortal words, "I really care about you a lot." <-- (means I love you but you don't have to say it)