friendship

my extended family

as i board this flight back to UCLA, i find myself sitting next to a squadron of cheerleaders from my alma mater. i’m brought back to my high school experience.

yesterday i spent the afternoon with a dear friend; we drove to a park near my home, laid down on a blanket, and stared at the sky. half of it was spent listening to bollywood music, the other half on a stroll through memory lane. we spoke about our past, our future, but mostly our senior year summer.

and what a magical summer it was; after playing an end-of-the-school-year assassins game, party people was born. a cross between forensics and band, this was a super group that rivaled the split halves that it was comprised of. we started the summer with a question: how many days in a row can we hang out? apparently, all of them. summer was infinite, and by its end, we were conjoined by the hip.

as the plane takes off I’m reminded of this summer’s last few weeks. the last-minute confessions, the teary-eyed farewells, the let’s-just-hang-out-one-last-time’s — i never expected these see-you-laters to hit me the way they did, let alone watch my dear friends break down in tears during our final moments together. in all honesty, none of this made sense.

i mean sure… college! that’s not high school; but our houses were still in the bay. i mean we were literally homies. it’s not like we’d never see each other again!

but it has begun to feel that way.

my first quarter of college was so full of energy that there was never a second of pause; as the second progresses, these hidden moments of lull have made themselves apparent. it is in these moments when i begin to think, when i begin to notice just how many people college has taken from me. my last summer was full of memories, this next one promises moments of centuries.

as i begin to spiral within, i open my camera roll. 
as i begin to scroll, i can’t help but grin.

they tell you college was the best time of their lives, but what they don’t tell you is that it takes time. sure i didn’t expect to find my best friends in the first quarter, let alone the first year. but you’d expect the weekend excursions, big-dollar meals, and spring break trips to elicit some form of joy. and i’d be lying to you if they didn’t, but I wouldn’t be if i told you they left part of me empty.

the big trips did a number on me, in particular the number zero. 
but the little walks around the block, the tiny karaoke sessions, the wee bits of bedtime comedy, the minute minutes of mischief — it’s these moments that fill my heart with hundreds.

it didn’t matter what i did, it mattered who i did it with.

i’m not attempting to konmari my friend circle, but i am beginning to notice who, not what, sparks joy in my life. and this isn’t to say i haven’t found a single companion in these last few months; a couple of the last few anecdotes were completed with a newfound batch of buddies. but these moments are far and few. i have a variety of new phone numbers in my contacts, but when i need a friend, i don’t know who to call. i know so many, but i know very few. i’m only beginning to wholly appreciate my high school friends, individuals who were more than just friends.

they were family.
and they forever will be.

i love each and every one of you with all my heart. thank you for a special senior year, a special summer; what a special something we’ve had together. i can’t wait to hear your stories, witness your evolution, grow old together. the inside jokes, the lake elizabeth volleyball matches, the ocean beach campfires, every moment of togetherness. because of you, i know what love feels like. i’d put your oxygen mask on before mine every single time.

as the captain announces our landing, i wonder how i should feel.
in front sits an unopened tiffin of oatmeal;
famished is one.
inside sits a heart filled with love;
full is another.