Reminiscing.

Tonight, I spent some time reading my old blog. I do this every once in a while, in an attempt to remember how I used to feel and make myself laugh with how bad of a writer I used to be.

However, I came across something I wrote that still speaks to me. I wrote it in May of 2008, shortly after returning home from Miami for the summer. College was halfway over, but my summer in Lebanon had me reminiscing on high school and the relationships I had built there. I wrote:

I remember when we would stay up all night just because we could. We drove around, wasting time and gas, but it didn't matter. We were together. We spent countless hours laughing at each other, even though we weren't funny. We held onto each other because we knew it would never be the same again. We learned each other during late nights at Waffle House. We laid, together in silence, counting the stars and realizing how insignificant we were. We stood in the summer rain and felt alive. We held our breath and time stood still. We breathed in the autumn breeze and vowed never to forget. We explored each other, late at night with no one around, finding our bodies and finding ourselves. We cheered at the football games, putting more importance on the outcome of games than we should have. We made promises to stay in touch, tears streaming down our faces. We cried at how beautiful and how simple everything was. We were scared at how fast it was ending. We cursed all the time we had wasted. We felt ourselves become overwhelmed with how right it felt. We worried that we'd never find it again. These were our last days as children.

Even five years later, I remember exactly how I felt as a senior in high school. I felt comfortable, happy, in love. I never thought I'd meet another group of people who made me feel like myself. Yet, time marched on, as it always does. I was wrong - I met an amazing group of people in college, ones that I love deeply. Now, I find myself wondering how I was ever as close as I was to my high school friends. We've moved on, our lives carrying us in different directions. Even some of those I held the closest in high school have become strangers to me now - familiar faces with a different person behind them.

I used to fight so hard to preserve the relationships of my past. Only now do I see that the ones that truly mean something - the ones that last - aren't a fight at all. Those friendships pick up where they left off, even after years of silence. Those friendships can be rekindled at any given moment - without bitterness, without uncomfortable pauses. Those friendships are mutual, with both parties willing to put in the effort. They aren't forced, they aren't one-sided, and they aren't superficial.

So, five years later, I look back on high school with fondness. The people that came into my life were there for a reason - I learned from them, I found happiness with them, and I loved them. It's okay that we've distanced from each other. We've made room for other relationships and, if the friendship was real, we can always pick it up where it left off.

I wish I could have reassured the younger version of myself that it was okay to move on. I wish I could tell her not to fight it, not to hold on so dearly. I wish I could have shown her that those who mattered would always be there and that good things could be learned from those who didn't. I wish she had known to let go, to keep growing. I wish she hadn't convinced herself that the end of high school signaled the end of her happiness.

She was wrong. High school wasn't the end. It was the beginning.