My security blanket

I realized something about myself recently. I'm not sure when the "Ah-ha!" epiphany moment happened but it was there somewhere. I have friend commitment issues. It's a strange thing to be afflicted with, but I am entirely convinced that I am, in fact, falling prey to this commitment issue business.

See, I have some of the greatest friends that anyone could ever ask for, and believe you me, I do not take them for granted. But the reason these friendships seem so natural to us are because they've been there our whole lives. We "met" as babies because our parents know each other. Its like being someone's sibling...it doesn't take effort, you just are. We've always just...been. I'm good at that.

Making new friends, however...an art I never fully mastered. Making new acquaintances, I'm a champ. That's easy, for someone that's outgoing and generally friendly. I make new ones every time I start a new class at school. But inevitably, the semester ends and other than random Facebook "Happy birthday!" messages, we fall out of contact. Class friends are always temporary friends; immediately gone when you realize what you shared in common was said class.

I can't handle the sudden BFF types. The ones you just met 5 minutes ago, who want your cell number and invite you to their birthday, all during minute 6. I don't share intimate details of my life with, well, anyone except a select few. I can do the quick and comfortable conversation but the fast bonding, the instant "Let's be the most awesomest friends ever" doesn't work for me. I'm guarded. I'll listen and offer advice, but rarely a story about myself that's not superficial.

I realize, in a big way, all of this is going to come back to bite me in the ass in adult life. I'm realistic enough to know that, as much as I'd love it to happen, I won't live within 10 minutes of my childhood friends forever. We're going to leave university one day, start families and live and grow apart. One day, we'll remember where we end and the other begins, even if we don't right now.

That day is going to suck. Particularly because there isn't a person outside of that circle that really knows me. Right now, they know me so well that a lot of the time, I don't have to explain much. Its comfortable, like an old blanket. I know every tear, every stain, every spot. But one day, someone's going to take that old blanket away from me, and give me something brand spankin new. It'll be a perfectly nice blanket, I'm sure, and capable of keeping me warm, but it won't be my blanket.

I just have to start finding ways to make it my blanket. The tough part is figuring that out.

Ben

His name is Ben. His parents have made me more angry than I can recently remember being.

His name is Ben. He's my dance partner for a performance.

His name is Ben. He's my friend.

His name is Ben. He's gay.

And his parents disowned him for it.

*******

He came to morning rehearsal, looking upset and was asked multiple times what was wrong and evaded. Blamed lack of sleep, end of term papers, etc. Can't say that anyone was buying it but it eventually got dropped.

While we were alone in the studio, I asked him again what was wrong, and he was near the verge of tears when he asked me to sit down because he had something to tell me. And so I sat. He took a deep breath and finally told me he was gay.

I say finally because I've had a feeling since I met him. He's not the effeminate very-obviously-gay type at all; he's the opposite. He looks like a jock. Acts like one of the boys. But I had a feeling, but never pushed the subject, figuring he'd tell me when or if he wanted to.

When I told him that it didn't matter, didn't change anything...that he was still Ben and I was still me and nothing was different...the tears finally did spill over, and he told me his parents didn't have quite the same reaction when he had told them the day before. Understatement of the century. I'll spare you the nasty things his father said to him because they near brought me to tears, but the closing remark was, "No son of mine is a *insert gay slur here*, so you're no son of mine." His mother drove him back to school in silence. Not a word from either of them since.

I sat there with my friend, while he cried, and I did my best to comfort him, despite the boiling rage that was hiding just beneath the surface. I told him all the things I should: that his true friends won't care, that it doesn't matter who does, that he is the same person as he was before he decided to come out. But what can you do to soothe the hurt of a parent's rejection of their own child?

*******

The rage is still here. I thought this was the 21st century. I thought this was Canada. I thought we were accepting...not just tolerant, but accepting. I thought a parent's love for their child was unconditional.

Apparently, I thought wrong.

My friend is hurting like hell right now. Not because of some random stranger yelling a slur at him, or a jerk at school. Not because of someone who's opinion doesn't matter to him at all. No, he got cut much deeper than that, by his own father, while his mother stood idly by.

And that is WRONG.

Ben deserves better. Everyone like Ben deserves better. And it makes me sad and angry that they don't have it yet.

Just friends

The debate on whether opposite sexes can simply be friends with no sexual tension/temptation has raged on for...oh, probably longer than I've been alive, which is why I've been somewhat hesistant to share my feelings. However, the word "emotional affair" has come up in my life so often lately that I think its about time. Forgive me if this isn't my most eloquent post.

I have the utmost respect for a person who can see an emotional affair and end a relationship because they deserve better. Let me say that up front. I'm not justifying these, not in the slightest.

However.

Having a close friend of the opposite sex is not the definition of an emotional affair. Confiding in someone other than your significant other is not an emotional affair. It's just not.

We all have people in our lives that are great at different things. Some people are the person that's incredibly easy to spill your guts and cry to, while someone else is the person who can take you out and cheer you up and not talk about whatever is wrong. This doesn't, and shouldn't, end because of a romantic relationship.

As someone who is lucky enough to have a very, very tight knit group of dude friends, I've been on the receiving end of some serious jealousy, coming from girls that date my friends. It happens often, and I haven't gotten any better at dealing with it, mostly because I don't appreciate the suspicion that I'm going to "steal their man."

Yes, we call/text each other the second major life events happen, or when we need advice, or someone to talk to/bitch at/vent to. Of course we do. And yes, sometimes after talking to a friend, you'll come out of it with a bounce in your step that wasn't there before. Heaven forbid that your significant other's friend cheered them up.


I am the best of friends with a great group of guys. None of us have ever been involved romantically. But if one of my friends calls me and needs a friend, I'm not hanging up on him and telling him to call his girlfriend. Simple as that.

Just because you are in a relationship does not mean you lose everything that was you before. There are still friendships and ties outside of it, and for a relationship to be healthy, there should be. Ever seen someone go into a relationship and sacrifice everyone they cared about for it? Yeah, trainwreck.

For me, it comes down to trust. If I can't trust someone to have a friend of the opposite sex and not constantly fear that he is cheating on me, or wants to...why in the name of all things holy am I with this person? Why am I projecting my insecurities on someone who did nothing to earn them? I'm not saying ignore your gut and pretend like its not happening. What I am saying is don't always expect it. Not every person is that person.

When trust is there, and friends don't have to sneak around behind someone's back, or lie to avoid a fight...then yes, guys and girls CAN just be friends.

Our asses make a cute couple?

I Twittered an abbreviated version of this amusing anecdote earlier and got some funny reactions, so I figured, for your reading pleasure, I'd tell you the story.

I have tutorials for my large history classes. It's standard fare. The class is broken down into small groups (20 or less) and we split up and discuss, rather than being talked at all the time. It's awesome.

In my group, there's a gay guy. He's pure, flaming gay awesome (I mention this for an important point in my story, and I don't exaggerate, he told a girl he had the same sweater as her in a different colour. Boy wears womens clothes), and we've already become buddies. He's hilarious.

There's also a guy that is dang good looking. Like the type you look at and the first thought is yum. He also happens to be a very nice guy, which is welcome. We're in the same group of 3 for presentations too, which is insanely convenient. He's hot, plain and simple.

We were leaving class today, and hot guy and I are walking and talking. The other guy is lagging behind, tapping away on his Crackberry. I notice we're leaving him behind and yell back to make sure he's coming. Once the hot guy takes off to his next class, the gay guy catches up to me in seconds, and the following conversation ensues:

Him: You know what, you two make a cute couple, even from the back.
Me: You were lagging behind intentionally?
Him: Oh yes.
Me: You were checking out our asses?!
Him: Well, his more than yours, but the point still stands. Hot couple. I was kinda hoping you'd pounce him.
Me: I barely know him.
Him: What better way to get to know someone than by pouncing?
Me: Well, you could try, "Hi, how are you?"
Him: So conventional. Jump his bones, sistah.

University education at its finest.

M.I.A. due to The Happy

I know I don't have a large blog following (something I am sometimes grateful for and sometimes I lament but that's another post in and of itself), so I haven't received a public outcry or anything. But for those of you wondering where the heck I've been since mid September, I'm around. I swear. I'm just balancing a lot of balls right now, between school, work, sports, and friends, and blogging has been on the back burner.

I'm still reading but I haven't had the burning desire to write anything particularly noteworthy, so rather than stuff my space on the interwebs with filler, I've stayed quiet. Today, I got to thinking about it and I realized why.

This blog was started when I was in a really shitty place, and I definitely used it to blow off steam that I couldn't, or more often wouldn't, unload on people in real life. It didn't matter that it wasn't going out to a huge audience. It helped to put things into words. But what helped more was getting out of that shitty place, both mentally and physically.

I'm at a new school. I like it here. My courses are just as much work. I spend just as much time with my nose buried in books. But the campus is smaller and the professors are more accessible. It doesn't all seem so overwhelming. I'm not a goldfish in a shark tank anymore. Home is less than an hour away. I can go home for an evening or a weekend if I want to, and I have on more than one occasion. My friends can drive to my place and spend the night, which they do frequently. I'm not lonely.

I'm happy. Feels kinda nice to say. I still have my days, but don't we all? But the good days outnumber the bad days, and damn, what else can I ask for?

Don't take this as me quitting my blog, by far. I still have things to say, topics that are important to me, things I'm proud of and things that rub me the wrong way. You'll still see a rant or two out of me. But I'm doing better, and it feels nice.

So I caught a case of The Stupid

So my recent absence is easily explained. While having a stellar vacation in Ireland, I caught a nearly deadly case of The Stupid. In case you are unfamiliar with this life threatening disease, it makes you think you are Superwoman and can do 2 weeks worth of things in about 4 days, while jet lagged, on little to no sleep.

We landed on Monday morning from Ireland, tired as you always are when returning from vacation with friends. You know, the "Oh man, I am SO ready to collapse in my own bed that I feel like skipping baggage claim" type tired. Instead of following that instinct, we grabbed our stuff, drove home, dumped it, and headed for the lake, still sleepless. Mistake number 1.

When we arrived at the lake, with 2 boats in tow behind trucks, we launched them and turned them into two floating bars in honour of my birthday. Complete with kegs. Mistake number 2. Like any good party, it lasted until the early hours of the morning before we even bothered to head back to the marina. Mistake number 3.

In what should now be a state of almost complete exhaustion, were it not for sugar, caffeine and adrenaline, we drove back. I crashed for a grand total of 2 hours, before getting up to go to my new job, bright and early Tuesday morning. Are you beginning to see the symptoms of The Stupid now?

We had training from 8 AM (did I mention I'm not a morning person AT ALL?) until 2 PM. I headed home, grabbed some food and caught 2 hours of sleep before returning to bartend for a frosh party at work until almost 2 AM. I've lost count of the number of mistakes in that paragraph.

After grabbing a few drinks with coworkers once the bar cleared, I headed home to catch 2 more hours of sleep once I wound down, only to wake up and head back into work for 8 AM for more newbie training. (I'm new, but because I've bartended before, I'm helping train instead of being trained). Training lasted from 8 (ew mornings) until 4, when we took a supper break. The newbies took off and trained staff worked a private party until 11:30 PM.

I caught a grand total of 3 hours of sleep, was back in for 8 this morning, and just got home for 4 PM. This is the only night we've got off this week, and the bar officially re opens for the year on Monday, which means it will be ridiculous.

So for those of you keeping count at home, since Monday, I have had a grand total of 7 hours of sleep and its now Thursday afternoon. So I am at the point of being so exhausted that I'm actually jacked up. So I promise I'll write about Ireland soon. For everyone asking, it was STELLAR and I'm going back soon, so help me god. My birthday was great too, thanks to anyone who said happy birthday. I'll be back, after I catch about 20 hours of sleep and my case of The Stupid is cured. I just don't know when that will happen.

I'm old, yo.

Hello from another scheduled post. According to EST, its my birthday right.this.very.second. I, however, am still MIA. I'm flying back from Ireland and once I land, heading straight to the lake for a birthday party on a friend's boat. I waste no time. Jet lag? What jet lag?

Anyway, I just needed to announce to the interwebs that I am one year older and feeling it, even if this post is written early. I promise, as you are reading this, I feel older. :)

See you all soon.

Hello from the sky

If you're reading this just after its posted, hello from the sky! (Okay, fine, its a scheduled post, but seriously, do you have to kill my fun?) I'm currently en route to Ireland, for a week with friends...one last hurrah before school starts again.

We took off at 8:50 on August 31st local time, and we'll land in Dublin at 10:20 on September 1st local time. I'll be back to my regularly scheduled life in Canada on September 7th, which coincidentally is my birthday. The airfare was 300 bucks, including taxes, round trip. Who did I sleep with to get that? No one, my friends. I am just that awesome.

So cheers to a week of gorgeous scenery, Irish accents and amazing history. I'll see you all when I get back.

Fridge on notice

I have officially put my fridge on notice. And my landlord is soon to join that list, because oh my goodness, the apartment has been nothing but a headache for the last month.

The window that was supposed to be fixed isn't, we didn't get access to mail until the 20th, which meant my tuition bill sat there for a month, and almost got paid late. And the worst of it all, the fridge.

Oh, the *bleepity bleep bleep bleeping* fridge.

Freezer works, fridge doesn't. Immense amount of groceries spoiled in the fridge. Milk, the rest of the dairy, things melting. After 5 e-mails to the landlord's account, I finally get a response. Landlord's solution is to unplug it, let it thaw and plug it back in, which sounds like such a solid fix. Didn't work. It took 2 more e-mails to finally get him to agree to a repairman coming in.

So now, I'm sitting at the apartment, with the boys, waiting for the repairman. The boys insisted that they come, so the repairman "can't rip me off," and no matter how many times I explain that he can't because the landlord is paying for it, they're all here anyway.

So now we wait. Fridge, you are SO on notice.

Seven

I am an only child. I have six brothers. Both statements are true. They're not related to me by blood, but damn anyone who says they're not mine. We actively choose each other, every day of our life. We love fiercely, unconditionally, constantly. We're each others best friends, confidantes, and teammates. Friends by chance but siblings by choice.

Tonight, we celebrate a birthday of the one born August 7. Tomorrow, we go to the 17th annual photoshoot. We all have an album with pictures of all 7 of us, taken every August. It started the year before we went to kindergarten, and has continued since. All of us, in one picture, every year. We've grown up together, and its in pictures for our children to see one day.

____________________________________________________________________________________

It started when we were babies. Its been a 22 year love affair. Except instead of 2, there are 7. We were babies, and our moms were Catholic. There was a mommy and me social at the church, and that's where we met, before we could even talk to each other.

The years flew by, and we were dragged to the same church events, community events and playdates. We went to the same elementary school. By then, we were already causing trouble together, from behind cheeky 5 year old grins. We survived scraped knees, falls from bikes, puberty and all the fun elementary school had to offer. Barriers were knocked down before they were put up. We don't need permission to stay at anyone's house, and we walk in without ringing the bell...because we've never had to. As a joke, one of the dads started calling us The Seven. There are 7 of us, and we're all born on the 7th of a month, from February to September of the same year.

We grew older still, and high school rolled around. We got the same speech from everyone; that friendships would change, and maybe things wouldn't be the same.
We didn't have the same classes all day anymore, but nothing changed. We were still loyal. Protectively loyal. Fiercely so. We survived calculus, broken bones, broken hearts and car accidents. Then we lost one of the seven. It shook everyone to their core, but not our relationships. We survived. Then we graduated.

We got the same speech, about how post secondary will change things. This time, we were scared. There was going to be real physical distance. We may not see each other for a month at a time. Would we lose each other? The first Thanksgiving, we were together within 5 minutes of getting home and nothing had changed. Worry gone. We were still us. We survived long distance relationships, dorm rooms, apartments, learning to live alone, and failed grades. We're still us four years later.

We're us because we choose to be us. We're not connected by DNA, or family ties, or anything legal. We don't have any reason but we don't need one. Unconditional love just is, without a why. We have our differences. We argue and fight and get mad. We're not perfect. But we'd be there for each other, any time, anywhere, no matter what. And that feels pretty sibling-real to me.

When people ask me if being an only child is lonely, I smile, and say I don't know. I carved out a family for myself, and they're mine, DNA or not.

Accepted!

So I woke up this morning, pushing noon, after a virtual all nighter with one of my best friends who just got back from visiting the UK. 4 AM never came so fast.

Blurry eyed, I checked my business e-mail, to see if there was anything important for the farm, and then noticed that I had personal messages in my other inbox. One of them carried the subject line "Information from *Insert University Name Here*" Suddenly, my eyes were less blurry. It was info about my school e-mail address, and how to access it.

Wide awake now, I'm realizing they probably don't give addresses to just anyone. But I haven't gotten any official confirmation. Its supposed to come in the mail. I may or may not have pounced on our mailbox the minute the mailman left. Nothing. Huh. Now I'm confused.

I'm also a child, and refuse to wait. So I looked up the number of the admissions office, found the extension of the person who handles my major. Heart pounding, I dialed the digits and explained the e-mail and lack of mail.

The wonderful lady, with the voice of an angel (okay, so I'm exaggerating, but if she wasn't on the other end of a phone, I would have kissed her), told me that, yes, I have officially been accepted and will receive a package of info, including the offer of admission, next week in the mail.

Oh my god, you guys, I'VE BEEN ACCEPTED TO THE UNIVERSITY I WANTED SOOOO BADLY!

The proverbial car that is my life is back on the highway. For the past few years, there were plenty of times where I didn't feel like I was the driver in control. Heck, I felt like a hostage, blindfolded, gagged and tied up in the trunk in a car hurtling towards a cliff.

I made quite the detour, and hated every second of it. I struggled with homesickness, loneliness, and a million other things. Some of my marks tanked because of it. I nearly kissed a university degree goodbye. I was dangerously close to it.

But things are back on track now. I'll be an hour from home, with a vehicle and I can go home any time I want. I'll be living with a friend from high school (we've signed a lease, for the record), instead of people I don't know well. I'll still be doing a degree I love.

It's still not going to be a walk in the park, but I can see the road again. It feels good.

5 years

5 years ago today, I lost one of my closest friends to his own stupidity. It was the summer after grade 11. He had turned 17 a few months earlier. It was a Friday night, in the summer, and we were having a party, at a friend's place in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't legal, but there was alcohol.

He tried to walk to his car. He'd been drinking. He'd done that before, and people knew it. We tried to take his keys away, telling him he wasn't safe to drive. He promised he was only going to the car to get something. He laughed at our concern, hugged a couple people. Me included. We trusted him. We heard the engine start and tires squeal and it was too late to stop him.

That was the last time I saw him alive. Suffice it to say there was a bad one car accident, that put him into a coma that he never came out of. His mother had to make the call to take him off life support. I can't describe the hell of those next few days. It takes more space, more words, and more tolerance than I've got.

I still have the dress I wore to his funeral. I've never worn it again, but I can't let it go. I'll never forget the picture that sat on top of his closed casket. I still remember how his mom looked, and what she said to me in the receiving line.

I remember sitting downstairs in the church with his big brother, who was one of his best buddies and ours too, and sobbing. We spent a lot of time doing that, in and out of the church, in the days that followed. We talked, we cried, we screamed and we sobbed. Anger mixed with grief and it tore our hearts to shreds.

I'm still angry as hell. We've all tried our best to forgive him but it still hurts. On the other hand, I still miss him just as much as that first day without him, and that hurts too. Someone who's been there for 17 years, gone in an instant, and for no good reason...it never goes away.

It was 5 years ago, and it was yesterday. You'd be 22, but you'll always be 17. I still love you. I still miss you. I always will.

__________________________________________

If you've been drinking, and you even consider operating a vehicle bigger than a golf cart, remember this. If me telling this story saves one accident, as much as it hurts to talk about the reason he's gone, its worth it.

Is there any better way to spend summer?

In a brilliant move, I gave myself yesterday off. (This is the magic of farm life. If there's no work to be done, you don't have to come in). So anyway, I appointed a holiday for myself, and some friends. We hitched my boat to my truck, filled my quad cab with people, as well as another one and took off to the lake for the day.

The awesome part about living where I do is that multiple Great Lakes are in driving distance. Not 10 minutes away, mind you, but very driveable. All we had to do was put the boat in the water, park the trucks at the marina and take off for the day.

Between fishing, tanning, swimming and hanging out with a few beers, it makes for a fantastic lazy day. I had quite a few rants waiting to go up on this blog, things people were doing that made me angry at humanity and etc. But after a day doing absolutely nothing productive on the water with good friends, my mellow is back (temporarily anyway).

And while pulling the boat out of the water, an ice cream truck came by, which just put a cherry on top of a good day, by making my inner 5 year old squee with joy. (You're damn right I bought some).

People still suck but my day was a little bit brighter.

How to make your boyfriend's friends like you

UPDATE: Oh there is justice in the world. There is justice. Le girlfriend is no more. Gone. Don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you.

I am decidedly tomboy in personality. I look very girly, but I can act like a total boy. Because of this, and because girls are too much drama, most of my best friends are guys. Because of this, I deal with a lot of the psycho girlfriends that come with it. This is my list of advice for females for making nice with your new boyfriend's friends.

- Recognize the importance of friend approval if you want to stick around. Flings don't require any approval, but if you don't fit in with the friends that are important to a guy, you don't fit into his everyday life. He won't like that. Its easier when a girl blends in with the friends, rather than creating drama with them.
- Remember that the friends were there first. Your relationship with him and ours are different, but chances are, we've got a lot more history, and if push comes to shove, he's going to pick all of us over one of you. Don't ever try to make him make that choice.
- Try to enjoy the things he does with his friends. This doesn't mean you have to do things you hate, or compromise ideals. But if they're doing something relatively harmless and you're invited, try to hang out. They'll appreciate the effort, even if you end up hating it.
- Don't accuse his female friends of sleeping with him, wanting to sleep with him, or anything else. It makes you look like a jealous, crazy broad who is absolutely paranoid. If they've been friends since they were young, and they were going to sleep together, trust me...it would have happened by now.
- Don't turn into a snoop. Don't check his calls, read his texts, go on his instant messaging, or go through anything else that isn't yours. Just because he's dating you does not mean he's not entitled to private conversations.
- We demand private time with him. This means time where you're not around, not texting, not calling, and not e-mailing him. Time where you do not exist. This is essential.
- Don't call him annoying ass pet names in front of us. "Babe" or the likes are acceptable, when not said in a baby tone, but "muffincake" or anything remotely like that makes us all want to gouge your eyes out. Him included, not gonna lie.

I'm currently dealing with a female who has entered my life, thanks to one of my best friends (thanks, Sean) who breaks every single one of the above rules. Our entire friend group hates her and has no problem undermining their relationship. We don't want her around, and we'll be openly happy when she bites the dust.

So girls, don't ever be that girl. Seriously. She sucks.

Leaving

The move date is officially this Thursday. This produces gigantic YAY from the deepest part of me. I'm so excited to go home, closer to my friends, with my family and start to really focus on getting myself back on the track that I want to be one. So seriously. Huge yay. Not diminishing the yay factor.

But. (Isn't there always a but?)

I'm having a hard time with realizing how many friends here (or should I more accurately call them "friends" now?) can't be bothered to take time to see me in person and say goodbye before I leave. I told countless people back in early January, when the decision was made, that I was leaving, and while the date got pushed up from March to February, they still had a month's notice, and a lot of people that I really thought would want to say goodbye (do dinner, do coffee, go to a movie, hell just hang out) haven't.

They haven't called, e-mailed, texted, Facebook'd or anything else, and I'm expecting a lot of "Oh its a shame I didn't see you before you left" lip service once I'm home, because, hello, have I mentioned I'm moving in THREE DAYS? There's packing to be done, and lots of it, and other things to settle before I take off, so there won't be time for getting together the day before I leave.

Its just kinda hitting me hard in the gut tonight that people can't be bothered. Maybe I've been spoiled with friendships in my lifetime, but when I was leaving at the end of summer, I saw one friend for a day, and the next day, she was in town and wanted to go for coffee before she went home. I laughed and reminded her she had seen me the day before, and she laughed back at me and said she wanted to see me as much as possible before I was gone. And this is someone who knew she'd see me at Thanksgiving, Christmas, Reading Week, Easter, etc.

The people here know, because I've told them, that I'm leaving for good. Not coming back. Gone. Done. Finished. And they still can't be bothered, and it stings a little. Or maybe a lot. I need comfort food and a movie night with my real friends.

The lost ones

Maybe I'm having a particularly nostalgic day today, but I can't stop thinking about the fish--I mean friends that got away. You know the friends that you got into a blowout fight with and flat out said "I never want to see you again"? No, not them. I'm talking about the ones that slowly got away...grew apart, changed, went different directions in life, whatever other reasons. THOSE ones.

I'm not a big fan of change, and I'd love to believe that my best friends now will be my best friends for the rest of my life (BFF, y'all). But when I graduated from high school, I got a pretty big kick in the gut about that one. I started to realize, as a few years went by, that the main thing I had in common with some of my friends was simply that we went to the same school. Remove that common denominator and suddenly, there was an ocean of differences between us.

We all went in such different directions. Some went to college, some to university, one's married with a planned (after marriage) child, a couple have oops-but-loved children, one's living in welfare housing with an idiot abusive boyfriend...but I digress. That's another subject for another day. My point is that we're all different now. We're not sharing the fact that we're seniors in high school and about to be unleashed on the world. We've been unleashed from the nest. Some of us flew, some tumbled and then caught the hang of it, and some crash landed on the ground. That's life for ya.

I'm just thinking about some of the ones that slipped away, and missing the closeness we used to have when I realize we'll probably never get it back. We're in different places, and unless both lives change drastically, we'll never be in the same place again. I still see enough about them on Facebook that I know what's going on, and we do lip service to the "Lets get together for coffee when we're all home for *insert next major holiday here*!" but it just never seems to be a priority for either party.

Maybe we've grown up. But more likely, we've grown apart. And that's the part of the growing process that stings sometimes.