Hold on tight. I’m about to get sappy up in here.
I remember always rolling my eyes whenever people older than
me would say, “Friendships are harder to keep once you graduate high school.”
Growing up in the pin-sized town of Killen, Alabama, I was surrounded by the
same quaint group of friends. We shared practically everything together.
Even if all we did was sit around and watch paint dry, we were sitting around
watching paint dry together. (We never actually watched paint dry but you
understand my expression, right?) I always had several options of people who were
willing to be my lab partner even if all I did was copy their answers, always
had a group to sit with during snack break, and always had a group of friends
to save me a seat in crowded assemblies.
It wasn’t until after we all went our separate ways that I
truly realized how much I loved and appreciated our friendship.
I remember washing my hands in the girls’ bathroom when a
very prominent, popular girl in my class began washing her hands beside me. As
we both finished washing our hands she looked up at me and said, “I really
admire you and the friendships you and your friends share. I really wish I had
close friends like you have.” I can get awkward super duper fast. It’s like a
reflex instinct. It’s like I become aware of every inch of my being and my arms
feel 10 feet long and I have no idea how to even move them. I’m sure I did some weird “uh” and “duh, um,
er” noises before finally forming words. I don’t know what it is about being
approached by people that turns me into a mess. Maybe it was because I was
thrown so off guard. Here is the girl who everyone in the school knows, who
wins everything she ever runs for, who would eventually go off and make a big
name for herself at one of the largest schools in the state. And this all-around stunner of a girl was
jealous of me. I’m not sure what
exactly I said back to her; I’m sure after stuttering out random noises I
formed a sentence pertaining to how blessed I was to have such a close-knit
group of friends. She smiled at me and walked out of the bathroom and with
that, I walked out too and didn’t think twice about her statement until two
years later.
Here I am: two years older. A lot of joys/crappy crappy
crap/ stress/ laughs/ sobs can be sprinkled within such a short span of two
years. I look back at the 18 version of myself and just laugh. What is it about
being 18 years old that makes us feel so invincible? Like making the transition
from 17 to 18 somehow deems us to be wise and all knowing. While I will
probably reflect on the 20 year old version of myself and lower my head in pity
at how naive I was/am, I know this to be true without a doubt: We don’t truly
appreciate what we have until it is gone.
I always knew I was blessed to have a group of friends to
turn to during some of the roughest years of life that is the four years of
high school, but it wasn’t until my dear friends moved away to start new lives
for themselves that I realized how much I took for granted having them so
accessible. What I thought was nagging advice proved to be true: true
friendships take a conscience effort to maintain.
Today, the 20 year old Rebecca has three amazing girl
friends that make that conscience effort to stay in touch. With one moved 5
hours away in Georgia, another nearly 3 hours away in Tuscaloosa, and another
here in Florence still with me but starting her journey tucked away studying in
nursing school, it would be natural for each of us to get caught up in our new
normal routine. We go days, even weeks, without speaking and sometimes months
without seeing one another. This past weekend, our schedules finally freed up
and allowed all four of us to gather in the same central location. It was as if
we never moved our separate ways and we just picked up where we left off.
I look back at the moment in the bathroom with the popular
girl in my class. She always seemed to have her life in perfect order. Maybe it
was just my selfish teenage tendency, or perhaps my inability to observe other
people’s unspoken words that kept me from truly seeing her. She didn't have her
life all figured out like I thought she did. Sure, she is now doing fantastic
things at one of the state’s largest most prestigious schools. But her 18 year
old self seemed to be longing for something more than titles and awards. All
she wanted and needed was a friend; not just another acquaintance but an actual
friend. My 18 year old self was so blind to just how valuable friendship truly
is.
Sometimes in the midst of the laughs/ sobs/ pleasant moments
shared between me and my Shawties (yes me and my friends refer to each other as the “Shawties”
because we are undercover gangsters), I think about just how different my life
would be without them. I never want to fall short on preserving the friendship I
have with those girls. Now here I am, two years older, two years wiser, being
the nagging person I use to roll my eyes at during my teenage years.
Friendships really do become harder to keep after graduating high school.
However, just like wine becomes better with age, so do friendships.
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