One of my best friends from high school lives just mere miles away from me here in DC suburb land. He’s lived here longer than I have and I have seen him only two times.
Yesterday was No 2.
I was cleaning through my personal email inbox last week and found a conversation we had months ago. On a whim, I wrote to him, saying it’s ridiculous we don’t see each other enough, we really need to get together.
So we were quick to make plans and had lunch together yesterday. Impromptu lunches are so much easier now that I work in DC, just steps from the red line. It was a little surreal because most of my friends now are ones whom I’ve made in the past year or two, not people who have known me for nearly half my life. (We met in ninth grade, so yeah, that’d be half of my 3o years of life. Amazing.) We chatted over a plate of grilled chicken for me and fish and chips for him. I gave him the gossip I knew about our friends “back home,” and we talked about his foray into becoming a homeowner, his wife, his future plans.
It was great to see him again, especially since we had many tumultuous times younger (According to him, I am banned from ever visiting the state of Michigan again. This was after Northwestern football beat Michigan in 1995. He didn’t like that I was excited for our surprising victory.) We’re all grown up now. Or at least he seems to be. He’s got a house, two dogs, a wife, and a law degree. I have an apartment, a roommate, a wacky relationship, a cat still vacationing with my grandparents, and a kickball league. But one day, maybe I’ll grow up too. I guess there’s no rush.
The true friends are the ones whom you can not hear from in a very long time, and when you meet up again, it feels like you never parted ways. He is definitely that kind of friend.
