for my jacelanta.

I don’t think I’ve ever known a version of myself that didn’t have you in it.

From the beginning, it’s always been us.

Same house. Same childhood. Same memories, give or take a few.

You were the one I grew up with. The one I navigated the complexities of human emotion with— love, anger, forgiveness, silence. And we didn’t talk for a solid six years after my childhood was flipped upside down.

Six years.

That’s a long time to lose someone. But when we saw each other again, it was like nothing had changed. You were just suddenly taller, funnier, smarter, louder.

And still, you were the exact same Jace I loved.

From sophomore year until the day I left for college, I was at your house almost every night. We were glued to each other doing absolutely nothing, but it still felt like the best use of time. More often than not, we’d be found intertwined in bed watching movies, or braiding each other’s hair, or in the kitchen making sweet treats that never came out edible. I even let you drive Petunia before you had any business behind the wheel— and somehow we lived to tell about it.

Those were some of the safest years of my life. Being with you always created a sense of stability in my emotions. You were my constant. My person. My peace when everything else was loud.

And then we stopped talking again after that. Three years, maybe more. Fell out over something so small I genuinely can’t remember what it was. But that’s the greatest thing about us, time doesn’t touch what we are. When we found our way back to each other, we just fell in like always.

There was no dramatic moment.
No awkwardness.

Just two girls who grew up and still needed each other.

And now here we are. On your 19th lap around the biggest and brightest star. Still the same stubborn, dramatic, big-hearted you— just a tiny bit wiser (although I refuse to forget how you asked me what year Harriet Tubman was president last week).

I look at you sometimes and forget how young you still are because of how deeply you feel. You’ve always felt everything too much… and I hope you never lose that.

If anything, I hope the world learns how to be gentler with you.

You’ve got a stubborn streak that makes me want to scream, but also makes me so incredibly proud. You don’t back down. You speak your mind. You believe in your people, even when they’ve given you every reason not to. And you care in a way most people grow out of.

You still give more than you should. You still love people who have no idea how to love you back. Time and time again, I’ve watched you pour from an empty cup, not for recognition, but because it’s just who you are.

And the world has always grown to love you— loud, dramatic, deeply emotional you.

But I got to love you first.

You’ve changed so much, and somehow not at all. You’re still my ride or die. Still my favorite person to do absolutely nothing with. Still the only person who can make a random Tuesday night transform into a core memory that will replay in my mind for eternity.

No matter where life takes us, you’re someone I’ll talk about forever. There are very few people in my story, but you seem to be a constant in every chapter, even the boring ones.

Especially the boring ones.

Life has never felt quite as full without you in it, and I don’t think it ever will.

I hope this year gives you back even a fraction of what you give to everyone else. You deserve that. Much more than anyone I know.

So, here’s to your 19th year in this beautiful universe, everything it is and everything it isn’t.

I love you for infinity, my jacelanta. <3