I've been digging through old pics of you just needing to see your face, and kicking myself for both not spending more time with you while also not capturing more of the memories we shared together. I'm haunted by all of our discussions about you writing a book, knowing that will never happen. And that's lead me down a rabbit hole of trying to find your writing. Others are obviously doing the same, and that's how Nicole ended up sending me your maid-of-honor speech from her wedding.

"For those of you who know me, you know that I'm not really that into "family" stuff. I do my best to skip holidays in favor of the bar with friends, and bemoan the few hours a year that I spend making conversation with my blood relatives.
 
I'm also the type of person who feels transient, no matter how long I've been in one place – I struggle with wanderlust and the constant desire move, to leave - to be anywhere but where I am.
 
So in this context, it might surprise you that the two things I want to talk about today, on the wedding day of my best friend Nicole to the most genuine man on earth, are family and home – two things that Nicole has taught me so much about.
 
I'll start with the obligatory short history of me and Nicole – When I was 15 and Nicole was 16, she adopted me.  I was an awkward theatre kid with a ratsnest of hair and thick glasses, and Nicole was a tall, gorgeous ginger who always smelled mysteriously like perfume and cigarette smoke. In our time together, often sitting on the floor of the Borders bookstore, I mostly talked about dinosaurs – and she actually listened.  She invited me into her home for dinner with her family, and to sleep over at her house. All the while I was amazed that she could be both so good-looking and still so kind.
 
A few weeks into this unlikely friendship, Nic asked me (or told me, I guess) that we were going to take the Greyhound bus 16 hours from Chicago to Ft. Smith Arkansas to visit her friend Nigel who had been unfairly whisked away by her family after freshman year.  I obliged willingly. When the day came, Nic's parents drove us downtown at midnight for our possibly risky adventure and kissed us both on the forehead before sending us off. I felt so loved. This was when I started to understand that Nicole was making me a part of her family.
 
Since that time, Sue has played the role as my second mother (and sometimes my first mother). Advising me about dating, friendships, school and work. And my hair. And my body. And my pharmaceutical needs and… well. You know Sue. But in seriousness, her advice has been invaluable.  And then came Bob, who once when we were in our early 20s, invited us to a Chicago Fireman's convention near Lake Geneva. And yes ladies, it was exactly what you imagine. Mustaches, beer bellies and vaguely racist jokes.
 
 
Over the years Nicole and I have gone through a lot. Separate colleges and grad schools, changing friends and careers. A combined six tattoos, two eyebrow piercings, and one broken pelvis. And dating – Man oh man – We've dated. I've had a lot of girlfriends, and Nicole has had a lot of boyfriends. I mean, a lot of boyfriends. In that time I've lived in Wisconsin, DC and on the distant and exotic North Side of Chicago. But I always had a home here on the south side, too – a bed at Nic's house or Sue and Bobs house. Homes that were always equipped with types of foods I liked, or the pretentious IPA's I drank.
From the first moment PJ came into Nicole's life, she was sure of him.  And before I even met him I was sure, too.  She can't mention his name without smiling. And when he claims that people used to call him Speedy Pete, and she pulls out her most serious face to tell him "Literally no one has ever called you Speedy Pete" – the warmth and love in her eyes is absolutely undeniable.
 
When PJ and Nic moved in together a year ago and 2556 became THEIR home, I never had to fear that I would lose my best friend to the domestic life. They continued to make me feel welcome there, too.  Like Nicole says, with PJ and her, nothing is "mine" and "yours" – everything is "ours" – Luckily for me, that included Nic's best friend, too.
 
We all are beneficiaries of Nicole's unconditional acceptance and love of all the people who have come into her life - and her almost magical ability to make other people the very best version of themselves.
 
Being Nicole's best friend has made me a better person. And, as I've progressively gotten hotter over the years, I've had to observe Nicole carefully to learn how to balance hotness with kindness.
 
The family we have is both the one we were each born with and the one we build; carefully constructed the way tiny birds build their nests from tooth picks and apple seeds.
 
PJ and I have a lot in common – but most importantly, we both have had the fine luck to be a part of Nicole's built family, and to learn from her what it truly means to be home.
 
To Nicole and PJ."

I cried when I read this. And I'm crying as I write this to you now. We both suffered the trauma and had the same damage. We both felt disconnected and homeless. We both felt abandoned. But I was always so JEALOUS of you. You traveled and experienced new things, while I remained trapped. And you built this massive & intense friend network. Everyone was your best friend. I kept my friend group and picked off anyone that caused me pain - creating the need to find brand new friends every couple of years.

But despite this difference, you were still seeking. And I never understood that. You accepted everyone as your friend and still felt unloved. You shifted and moved and still felt without a home. You clung to the families of your friends but still mourned the fact you never had your own.

Im sorry I was so wrapped up in my own pain to not hear yours.