"To Being an 'Us' for Once, Instead of a 'Them'"

There are people in your life, and then there are people. Friends versus friends. And though the terminology is a bit baffling, the concept itself is so natural that it's actually easy to comprehend.

I'm not talking about "best friends," or "BFFs" [for those who speak in txt]. No, I mean those people that are so important in your life, so influential on everything you do, that there isn't even a word to describe them.

These are the people who you share Oreos with. Not by opening up a box and chowing down--no, that's for the regular people. These people help you eat your Oreos by licking out the cream and giving you the cookies. Or vice versa. And if you're really in a silly mood, you'll peel off all the creams, throw away the cookies, and make a giant tower.

The people who pick you up on your absolute worst day and force you to have fun. [You eventually forgive them for dragging you across the concrete, because all those awesome times totally outweigh the initial humiliation...]

The same people who know exactly where to find food, pans, silverware, etc. in your house, because they've helped you make dinner/dessert/3am-snacks so many times. In some cases, they're even the ones who helped you ALMOST burn your house down in the process of making said desserts.

They also know that Ragu Alfredo takes only seconds to make, and that Ping Pong is the cure for most homework frustrations. And working together on that homework is always better than doing it alone.

They know where every spare key is, and they know your car's full name. They also know what size you wear for every article of clothing [and when I say every, I really mean it].

These are the people you call in the wee hours of the morning, the last hours of the night, and every available minute in between on Saturday because you know they'll rush to assist you in cleaning your bedroom. And they'll be there before your mother is tempted to kill you for letting the room get so messy in the first place. They also know better than to ever expect to see the carpet of your bedroom floor [I don't even know if I have a floor? I suppose all the stuff must be resting on something...].

You accidentally call them your siblings in front of teachers. You use them as an excuse to get things from your locker that you forgot ["Oh, my sister has my book!"]. And when those few hilarious teachers say something unintentionally funny, your eyes automatically hit theirs and it takes a vast amount of effort to contain the laughter.

They laugh at you--not with you, at you--and it's perfectly okay, because you've spent a good deal of time laughing at them, too. You know when they're lying and they can read your face just as easily. When you fall and smack your head against a wall, they nearly pee in their paroxysms of laughter, and you quickly forget the pain and start to crack up with them.

You've shared so many books that it's really, really hard to remember which ones were yours in the first place. Some have even disappeared over time, only to wind up in the strangest places. It's the same with sweatshirts, PJ pants, CDs, and Tupperware.

And of course, you fight like Spartans every now and then--brutally, taking no prisoners--but you get so sick of not seeing them that the ridiculous arguments don't last long. In fact, it's more strenuous for you to fight than it is for you to get along.

All of this, and there's still no name for them. I've searched the dictionary for some long-forgotten synonym, some ancient word that spells out what I've been trying to say. They're not just friends, and they're not best friends; those terms are used much too loosely to carry any meaning anymore. You can call them brothers and sisters, but eventually people start to wonder why you have so many siblings in the same grade.

For now, they're my people. No matter the name, I don't think I could love them any more.

To my people, for my people. It's always, always, always for them. :]