I remember being told throughout my life that friends would come and go.
In the larger scheme of things, I suppose that might have been true. I have pictures from middle school, high school and even college where I probably couldn’t even put a name to several of the faces.
However, in those same pictures I have faces that are almost as familiar to me as my own at this point. Names that resonate with years of history, laughs, and shared memories.
I’m lucky enough to work with one of those faces now. A face I’ve known since 2nd grade in elementary school. Our closeness, as most would measure it, has waxed and waned over the years. We’ve had times where we were inseparable and times where we barely spoke once a year.
Even in the sparser times though, I could have called her up and undoubtedly we would have picked up right where we left off.
Old friends have a way of doing that, I’ve come to find. They have a connection with you that runs deep enough that no passage of time can diminish your level of familiarity, of deep understanding, of friendship.
That after a certain amount of shared experience you become almost bound to another human, unable to ever forget them fully or unempathize with them?
Maybe I’m romanticizing it, but I stand in awe of it continuously.
I stand absolutely humbled and overwhelmed by grace that when I outstretch my hand there’s someone amazing out there to catch it.
…I feel like having a super shoujo anime flashback right now, but I’ll try to keep it on topic.
My I’ve-known-her-forever friend was not only the first on the scene when I found out my diagnosis (straight out of work to sweep me off to somewhere better), but she always has my back. Today I walked in…and she’d bought me a diet coke. Not a big deal, I understand, but for me it was a hug I was able to drink all day long. Memories of skate nights, video games, and late night cannibal movies. It was a little thing, but it really made me remember how much of a big thing her friendship really is and how lucky I am to have it.
I’m grateful to have a friend like Stephie. A creative, artistic spirit who has always seen more in the mundane than any human should. In our early days, she was my partner in crime and sister in seclusion. She was the Storm to my Rogue (or was it the other way around?), my introduction to good music, and the person who knew best how to set my adrenaline pumping with terrifying whispers during sleepovers. We ran from boojums, created exclusive clubs, and forged plans for secret identities…
Thanks for the soda, Stephs. More over, thanks for being my friend all these years!
~all the love