One year, three months, and three days ago, I left a comment at a blog.
This was not a terribly rare occurrence. It was a comment of introduction—one of those brief three-liners in which I said hello, made a few notes about the post, and wished the recipient luck in becoming ambidextrous. (Nowadays, even those brief three-liners are rare.) In any case, it was an average, ordinary comment on an average, ordinary blog.
The day before that, I received a reply. (No, that was not an error. I left my comment on February 2nd, and received a reply on February 1st.) It was undoubtedly the most lengthy comment I had seen to date, and was ended with the statement that the author would like to become a “regular stoppingbyer here.” Signed—Altariel.
So it began.
In the days, months, and more than a year that followed, I embarked on a wonderful and fascinating friendship that stretched halfway around the world. I learned about New Zealand. I argued passionately about the American Civil War with someone who shouldn’t have known enough to put up protest. I received a gift package with chocolate, pink kiwi socks, and…chocolate. I worked up the courage to suggest a Skype call. I convinced the other party that such a call would be fun. I spoke with my friend for the first time, and drooled over her wonderful accent. I sat in the closet at one in the morning so I could talk without waking the family. I met her younger siblings. I began to look upon her as my twin—and didn’t take the term lightly.
Meanwhile, she put up with a lot from me, and gave a lot in return. She left me thousand-word comments. She critiqued my poor attempts at writing. She sent postcards and letters and pictures. She agreed to Skype against her better judgment, and immediately was hooked. She laughed at my American accent while I admired her New Zealand one. She threw me a birthday extravaganza on her blog when I turned sixteen. She pushed me out of my comfort zone during NaNoWriMo. She raced me to the finish line, and fell asleep on her keyboard at the end. She laughed with me—and at me. She prayed for America with me and others during a disappointing election. She became so much more than a twin, but a dearly loved friend.
The internet is criticized often, and most people don’t but a high value on friendships conducted solely online. Over the past year, however, I have learned just how effective such communication can really be. Of course it lacks the final dimension gained in “real life,” but too many of us probably underestimate the full potential of the technology we have at our fingertips. How else can a friendship so easily grow to surpass the barrier of such an incredible distance? It is truly amazing, and not something to be either devalued or overvalued.
But where is all this headed? Today, my friends, is Altariel’s seventeenth birthday.
To my dear twin Gabrielle, fondly known as DT: I love you, and I’m sorry this birthday post isn’t nearly as exciting as mine was last year. I love your desire to know what you believe, and base your beliefs on the truth. I love your family, and I want to meet all of you so badly. On a less sentimental note, I love your accent, too.
Your wit and wisdom continually astound me, as does your unending ability to be mean in the sweetest way possible. As a writer, you are sheer amazingness. As a critic, even better. As my Dear Twin…well, you’re pretty cool, no doubt about it. Cool enough to warrant a post that breaks every rule of good blogging and will probably turn off most readers since it’s a solid block of text.
Happy birthday, DT!
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Larson, is a ‘handbook’ designed for kids ages 8-12. It deals with more than 300 topics familiar (or not so familiar) to young readers, addressing them with scripture and commentary.
