You are the friend I bumped into by accident, giggling at the same jokes, walking through the same streets, fighting through the same crappy battles wishing I wasn’t so alone. You are the person who opened herself to me, never hesitating to share her story and suddenly making me realize I didn’t have to be on this journey solo.

You are the girl I learned I could believe in, the one who was always there, always present, always someone I could trust and smile and be myself with.

You are the hand I was reaching for unconsciously, the laughter bubbling up in my chest, the confidence I feel rising within me when I walk. You are the person I confide in, the body and soul I trust with all of me.

You are the late nights, sharing snacks and secrets on the downstairs couch or early mornings, running before the sun rises. You are the person on the other end of the phone, listening to me cry and always knowing what to say to bring me back to myself again.

You are the shoulder I’ve leaned on, the legs that have carried me, the constant reminder of who I am and what I’m worth.

You are the one I consider, without a doubt, my very best friend. But you are more than just my best friend—you are the sister I never knew I needed—you are family.

It’s amazing how we grow up and find people whose hearts somehow beat in sync with ours, whose steps fall into rhythm with our own, whose patterns and dreams coincide with the ones we’re chasing and suddenly we realize love doesn’t have to be shared by blood.

We’re born into families, adopted into families, raised and loved and driven crazy by families. We have mothers and step-fathers, sisters and half-siblings, cousins and uncles and grandmothers and foster parents and guardians and caregivers and people we learn to call ours. But then, we meet people that aren’t family. People with whom we don’t share DNA or a roof over our heads, but still find a way into our lives and change us for the better. People who, with their simple embrace, remind us that we are loved—even in our loneliness, even in our darkest moments, even when our families fall apart.

People who are our friends, but feel more like siblings.

And that’s you. That’s always been you, from the day we met. You are the one who can answer my call at any hour of the day and know what’s wrong just by the tone of my voice. You are the one who lifts me when my spirit is broken and helps me solve anything that’s weighing down on my heart.

You are the one who has taught me strength and resilience, the one who has pushed me to fight when I felt like giving up.

You are the one who fell into an easy friendship with me, a relationship that isn’t filled with competition and bitterness, with deceit or cattiness, but is beyond-a-doubt real and genuine. You are the person I can trust with my life and feel most comfortable around, and no matter what this world throws at us, that won’t ever change.

You are the friend who feels like family, who has taught me that love doesn’t have to be found only within the four walls in which I grow up, or only in the arms of the people who raised me.

You are the one who showed me that I could be cared for, so deeply, by people with whom I have no blood relation to, people who step into my life randomly, unknowingly, yet by the hands of God, and impact me in ways I never imagined.

You are the friend who has given me hope, helped me continue, showed me who I have the potential to be, and stood by my side as I regained my sense of self after falling down.

And it is you who has loved me and who has reminded me, time and time again, that family is forever, but true friendship is too.

Marisa Donnelly is a poet and author of the book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.