Tonight I counted the amount of true friends I have left from Tate High School. By true friend, I don't mean people from my hometown that I chat with all the time or the guys I hang out with. I almost mean the opposite: my true friends are the ones I rarely talk to while I'm away, and when we get together, it's as though nothing has changed. We don't play forced games of catchup--- no, "how is the semster going?" or "are you still studying to do X?" Anything that matters comes up in our normal conversation (your friends tell you the important stuff; you never have to ask). I may not see them months (or years) at a time. Honestly, no: I don't think about them all the time either. But when I see them, I am genuinely happy and wish they were neighbors more often.

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6. Six.

I think hope each of them suspects his/her picture is in my head as I type. While still in my life of hall lockers and class bells, I expected to stay friends with some people I can now only consider "friends from high school." The one who took me around in his go-cart since kindergarten, the one who seemed to always be in my click for the weekend, the one I had a crush on junior year...

There's even one or two from my list that I didn't picture remaining a part of my life. Some storylines are meant to reach a conclusion at one scene, while others surpise you and carry on and reach new depths.

To the six: thank you truly for being my friend. Maybe I will see a few of you this weekend when I come home for Easter (After all, one of you convinced me to make the trip.).