Belief in Magic

I just got a letter today from the past. It was from my best friend Leanne.

Let me be honest to you: She isn't my best friend, thats too limiting. I've had many friends, and I've had many "best" ones too. Leanne didn't like to say I was her best friend. She didn't believe in that. She didn't think you could simply give someone a title, and that was that. You just graduated from "friend" to "best best friend"? There is no magic in that. And Leanne, could not be regulated and boxed in to something as simple as that...

Leanne was magic.

I first met her when I was a lonely young 21 year old assistant manager at a KayBee store. I was going to interview my first potential employee. Ive seen many people walk in wanting a job, but when she walked in, somehow I knew there were forces in action to make this day happen. She was slight, short haired, and young, but had this aura of an old soul. I was smitten when we talked, and I don't even think we talked about the job all that much: I just hired her.

And my manager was a little sore at me when we both found out she was just 15.

But she didn't act like she was 15! Hell, she didn't act like anyone I knew! Even my manager saw this, and was willing to let her work the 3 hours a day until she was 16 in 4 months. And everyday I worked and talked with her, was enlightening.

She was a heavy drug user before she was 15. A troubled teen who had no use for her own life, and wanted nothing more than self destruction. Abused and forgotten and dead. Somehow, from within herself, she changed her life, joined support groups, and went total soberiety. She was in the process of her twelve steps and retaking her life back. She lived the life of destolation, and with her own strength, regained who she could be. She talked of her life, which made me feel like an inexperienced newborn. Leanne has done so much and lost as much more than I had. She had an infectious smile and a lust for life. She taught me what it means to live.

From this, a true friendship was made regardless of the age difference (and possible socially illegal potential). We talked constantly, sometimes hours at night till someone fell asleep. I saw all of Californias theme parks and attractions with her, and took photographs of Leanne picking the noses of various things: Statues, Dinosaur skulls, a guy in a Pluto costume, various landmarks, and if there wasn't anyone or anything around, her own nostril. I told her she needed to make a travelogue book of her picking her nose around the world.

She showed me her love of photography, which in turn opened my eyes to the beauty of life, simply by looking at it with a different view. We laughed when she jumped out of her seat by almost two feet at Jurassic Park. We cried together when I was dumped by my then girlfriend. And I trusted her with every secret I had. I'd like to think she did the same with me.

I guess you could tell at this point, I loved her. No, not in a boyfriend/girlfriend way, but more than a brother/sister. It was what love should be. Love isn't sex, nor lust. It's a passion, a trust beyond your own self. Being more than you thought you could be simply by knowing her. The kind of love that would make you do anything to just make her smile. To protect her, even though she really didn't need it. But she cared enough of you to not embarrass you anyway.

Over the years, we've drifted apart at times, and even had falling outs that would span months. My then girlfriend knew I was sad about something, and knew it was that I missed Leanne. But she also knew, I guess, that Leanne would always be a part of my life: She actually drove me to her work so we can reconcile. And when I saw Leanne again, it was as if no time had passed. I even totally forgot why we were angry at each other in the first place.

More years. I moved. She got a new job. I met other people. She took up photography professionally. I still wrote her, as she did me. She got married to a really nice guy, Rich. I was so happy when I learned she was pregnant with her first child, Zane.

Fifteen plus years gone by since that first day. We now mainly write only cards at Christmas. I don't want to bother her new, and well derserved life, even though I miss her. She's a mother now. The same little girl I once new has completed her circle, and is now probably the most fantastic mother any child could have. She found her love.

And I smiled, and cried. And I find I still love her.

Because, after all these years, Leanne is still magic.