I remember her showing up to visit me a few times when I was in the psych ward - she would bring Pokemon playing cards and we would play go-fish until she had to leave.
I remember how cool we thought we were when we wore spikes and chains, rebelling against authority and against our classmates. We look back on those days with embarrassment and humor - mostly embarrassment.
I remember when my mother wouldn't let me see her because she was a "bad influence" on me - I would leave an hour early and trek through the snow in -50c weather to get to her house so that we could walk to school together.
I remember laughing when she threw a juice box at me while I was getting stung by wasps after I stepped on a nest because she didn't know what to do.
I remember making her cry when I was taken to the mental hospital, and being unable to comfort her.
I remember times when we were each other's only comfort.
To be honest, I wasn't always a very good friend. During grade ten I was very depressed, very impulsive, and sometimes very mean. We ended up not talking for months in High School - I waited for her to forgive me. I'm glad that she did.
She is one of most supportive people in my life, and I feel that she has been one of the most positive influences on me overall. We have changed a lot in the last eight or nine years, but still click instantly when we're together.
Fun fact: she even threatens to feed me pork rinds when I stop eating. In fact, she drew me a picture to remind me - I keep it on my bedroom wall:
I love you, Kaitie. Thank you for everything.