Circa 2003.

I have never been a human with dozens of friends. I have always just had a few. A few people to hold dear and cherish. I am not unfriendly, I just take friendship seriously. My life isnt for show and I dont require validation from all. I just prefer to keep to myself and to share that with those I adore. Hence I have never had the most facebook "friends" or been one to know everyone at the parties or to even be invited to the parties. Cool kid I am not. And the reality is that I believe in moving on.

High school was not for me. Veronica got that. There was a world that existed outside of those walls and it was the world I would live in. So I finished early and got out. And rarely looked back. I remember going back for a dance once. I remember little other than I felt annoyed by the people I hadnt seen in months and that they played Staceys Mom. Classic. I had begun full time work at that point and returned only once more to attend a graduation ceremony I was grossly dressed down for. Then it was university. Four years in the states. Two years in Australia. Back to the place I grew up then marriage. I moved on. A lot. And with each move fewer people remained in that beloved inner circle. 

It wasnt that I didnt care. I did. I didnt force relationships that werent there and realized when they were one sided. I also realized that not everyone is meant to stay in our life forever. People change. Relationships change. And nothing changes at the same pace. People can be outgrown. Outused I suppose. That sounds so harsh but I think it is true. Sometimes our role just isnt meant to be permanent.

However, sometimes miraculous things happen. And people return. I think that re-entering a life is extremely rare and difficult. Because as time passes and people change, a lot of questions arise. It is like a berth of insecurity finds its way between the thought of letting people back in and actually doing it. At least that is how it works for me. I wonder if I have offended or created too big a rift by not keeping in regular touch. I fear that it will be awkward or that I will feel judged. So I am best at moving on not looking back. Except this time.

There was this girl. She moved to our little city in grade 9, to a place where most of us had been in the same classes and schools for years. And she was gorgeous. Someone that you see and think wow, all of the guys will love her and all the girls will want to be her. So I dont know how she became my best friend but she did. Her home became my home and her family mine. Looking back we did everything together. My frist kiss was one of her friends. My first big concert happened because her bf at the time liked the same music as i did and she was thinking of getting him a ticket. My first job was in a food truck with her. It was much less awesome than it sounds. A lot of firsts happened here. And then I grew up and left high school and moved away.

I admit I wasnt the best at keeping in touch because I thought she had moved on from me. She was always someone I admired and could understand that she would move on to bigger things. I was ordinary, she was sparkly.

A long time passed. Like eight years possibly. And then we reconnected for a moment on social media and then it all happened. A week ago we met up. I was so nervous. Nervous the moment would be a let down, that I would be, or that we would have nothing to talk about or that we would feel awkward. I should have been less insecure.

Seeing Stevie brought tears to my eyes. She was as gorgeous and glowing as always and she still loved me. Hours passed in moments as we quickly ran through the last 8 years. We cried together when we talked about the worst memories and laughed when we recalled the best.

I still do not think that everyone is meant to last in our lives. But I know that there are very few people that you can see after many years and still feel that instant love and comfort. Those are the people worth keeping. The ones you fight for. I wont let another eight years pass without feeling her presence that is for sure.