Dear Best Friend Letter Novelas e Histórias

“I’m glad you’re still here .” “Me too,” I said happily. “I'm so happy you had a change of heart. Since my father is your closest friend, I understand that it must be difficult for you, but I am confident that all will work out in the end. The past few weeks spent with you have been the happiest of my life. Now that I've gotten to know you as my best friend, I can't even begin to picture what it would be like if you weren't the first person I contacted whenever I felt pleased, sad, furious, or anything else. Even though it's wild and not at all where either of us intended it to go, I don't regret where it's ended up. .”

And if you do, please tell him that I am sorry, I never wanted him to live the life that I lived. I wish you all the best love in the world. I love you. From your best friend." And then again, another fresh round of tears

Ella said "I hope you are right," I replied, and then I sighed. "Thank you for being my best friend, Ella. I don't know what I would have done without you in my life all these years. You have always been there for me since we were in the fifth grade, and I want you to know I am so grateful for you," I said

'' I reply and she leans closer, wrapping his hands around my neck before letting out soft chuckles. ''You're welcome. I want to thank you for everything that you've done for me, too. There's no one out there that can replace you and I mean it . . . you will always be my best friend. No matter what we go through, we'll go through it together. Okay?'' She raises her right hand and I look down to find her lifting her pinky finger. As my lips are curving up into a smile, I let my pinky finger entwine with hers and we both start to chuckle at one another—letting the cameras flash at us.

I stood there, hands trembling as I opened the letter. Dear Diana, I don’t even know how to start this. You were my best friend. My sister in every way that mattered. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, and I never forgot that. Even when I thought I was gone for good… your face stayed with me. Your voice. Your laugh. The way you’d scold me for overthinking everything. It was my anchor. I’m sorry I disappeared. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you sooner.

It felt good to give them something, after everything they have given to me. That’s why, in that letter, I wrote Jack and Shirley first, and then Mom later. Wow, that got intense. And long. Sorry about that. To wrap it up, yes I celebrate Thanksgiving, and no, your school picture is not silly either. Hope to hear from you soon! Your friend, Haven

I opened it and it read thus: “As you might have observed, my partner is an early bird, so there is a high chance of us not seeing each other before we go on our separate journey. I am missing you already and I hope you are missing me as well as you read this letter. Make sure you come back alive as I still need you, my best friend. I wish you a safe and fruitful journey.” -Tasha.

"Consider it a gift. An apology for being a terrible friend." "You're not a terrible friend." "I've been so focused on Mason and Vincent that I forgot to be there for you." She stopped. "You're my best friend, Lucy. And I've been treating you like a problem to be solved." "Sloane—" "I'm sorry." Her voice cracked. "I should have been better." I pulled her into a hug. "You're fine," I said. "You've always been there for me. Even when you were being a pain in the ass."

For three years, Damon had existed at the center of my world so completely that sometimes I genuinely struggled to remember what my life looked like before him. At first, he was simply my best friend. The charming, frustratingly handsome business student who sat beside me during freshman orientation while making sarcastic comments under his breath about the dean’s painfully long speech, and by the end of that day, we were already laughing together like we had known each other forever. Then came the late night study sessions, the coffee dates that stopped feeling platonic far too quickly. And eventually, Damon became the person I called first every morning and the last person I spoke to every

I sat down carefully, a flurry of Sarah's handwriting staring back into my face. > *Hey Bestie—no, we're not besties anymore. And when you are reading this, I should've gotten out of the country by then Or maybe not, but I hope this letter finds you when I'm gone, to another country entirely where I won't hurt because of how bad I treated you, and you won't hurt looking at what I had done to you.