As adults, we are all trying to recollect how it once felt when we, friends, were together – young and alive. Let’s take a stroll down memory lane, shall we?
The school was a time when we met every single day yet never got tired of each other (Maybe we did? I love you, guys). We eagerly waited for the breaks to share our food and discussed reproduction (I was a computer science student) and boys! High school was more than just studying because of the crazy water fights, punishments during Arabic class, and the diverse group of people I grew up with. During undergrad, we moved in from different cities/countries and helped each other adapt to the new environment. Our heart-to-heart conversations, under the flickering yellow lights, revolved around our crushes, our friendship, or our fear of the future. We quickly dismissed all our inhibitions with a tight hug. (Can I get one of those re-assuring hugs right now?) Three words to describe undergrad: Hostel, clubs, and Kanni-square. I met some folks during my post-grad who were a lot like me! They were kids stuck in adult bodies, and we assigned each other superpowers for fun (I shall not reveal that here). It was a roller coaster ride trying to meet deadlines and not losing our calm (We did multiple times, but we got over it). Although it was a short eight months on campus, our Convocation made up for it, a little at least. I don’t have friends at work, so let’s skip to the good part *aaahhhhhhhhh* Kidding. We talk for hours after work and wonder how some people are mean weirdos (Alexa, play ‘Mean’ by Taylor Swift, please). My flatmates and I have found that ice cream is the only cure for bad workdays.
As adults, we are all trying to cope with our current lives while recollecting how it once felt when we were together – happy and energetic.
The reason I love my friends is because of the little things like how they ask about my well-being, listen to me talk about anything, send me long messages before my big days, and push me to put myself first. These people help me get through my grey period and cheer for me the loudest during my rainbow hours. Oh, and my friends also taught me that the baby doesn’t come out of the belly button. Perhaps, the pinky promises didn’t work out too well, but I know we are forever.
When nail polish starts chipping away, we can always add another coating to make it last longer. Similarly, as our memories fade away, we can always create new memories and hold on to them a little longer. Until then, I shall remember us whenever I wear my jeans with a chocolate stain from when we had lunch together and the cheeky smiles while teasing one another.
To chipped nail polish, chocolate-stained jeans, and cheeky smiles!
World of Jeana 