a song that is stuck in my head even though it hasn't been written yet:

only the good die young,
and i've never been enough of that.
so i tried cheating my way into heaven,
but i guess that's why they sent me back.

tayloren

i'm not typically the kind of person who struggles with words. for those of you who know me, you'll know that most of the time it is way harder to get me to shut up than it is to get me started. and it's not like loren didn't give me enough notice for this - loren's only been planning her wedding since we were, what, eight? i've only had like the majority of our lives together to figure out what i wanted to say to you today, which is why panic hit me like a freight train 25 days ago when i realized i didn't have anything written. and i had no idea where to start either - the beginning? well that'll take way too long. the end isn't here yet. and the stuff in the middle, i mean - to try and summarize that? it's impossible. so i kept trying to pick out these snapshots of what our friendship has been - what it's meant to me and what i hope it's meant to you... and there are so many stories i could tell, and one i know i'm not allowed to tell, but... there's one story, out of all of them, that refused to let me put it away. it's not a very long one - it's not even a very good one, but. this is the one. back in elementary school, you remember, we used to hang out on that playground in the back corner of your mom's complex - most days we stuck to the swings or the monkeybars - you knew not to trust me on the teeter-totter - but on this particular day, we decided we wanted to take turns trying to run up the slide. and of course you, being all of two feet tall, were having significantly more trouble than i was. so i'd successfully run up the slide a few times now, while you were still working on your first go of things, and on one run you juuust managed to hook your wee fingers over the top lip of that slide. and you're hanging there... like mufasa... and i'm standing there... like scar. and i peeled each of your little fingers off the lip of that slide, and i tossed you back down. and you FLEW - like, it was unreal the amount of air you got off the end of this slide - and you landed like five feet away, face down in the dirt. and you lifted your head up and you had all this muck packed in your upper lip, and you were crying, and i was crying... laughing. and we went back to your place, and you patched yourself up, and we called it a day and spent the rest of the evening inside. and not a week later, we were back out on that playground together. and we were on top of the monkey bars, and i slipped. and i bashed my two front teeth off the bar in front of me, and i'm bleeding and freaking out - and you jumped down to where i was. and we went back to your place, and you patched me up, and we called it a day and spent the rest of the evening inside. and if you're wondering why, out of all the stories i could have told, that was the one that wouldn't leave me alone? yeah. so was i. but i thought about it, and loren - you've always been there for me. even when i didn't return the favor. even when i didn't deserve it, which was often. you've always known how to take care of not just yourself, but everyone around you too. and i'm pretty sure that it's at this point in the speech that i'm supposed to make some sort of threat on your life, taylor, but instead, what i want to say is this: thank you. because there is no one else on this earth worthy of sitting where you are today. you two deserve each other. which is not something i say lightly. the way you two look at each other... is gross. and for the record, loren: i'm sorry i threw you down the slide, it won't happen again. but if it did? i'm glad you found someone who'd be there at the bottom to catch you.