- Although we’re older and supposedly wiser, not everyone grows up. Some people will always be the way they are.
- At the same time, some people really do change in a mere five years. It’s refreshing.
- It may have been five years since you last saw people, but everyone still looks 18.
- Even though you look the same, everyone will tell you how great you look.
- There are few people in your life with whom you can lose contact for years, reconnect, and it’s like you never stopped talking. Those are your real friends.
- The majority of people from your class are in three locations: your hometown, New York City, or Boston.
- The people still living in your hometown (and working there or in nearby towns or cities) live at home. And they’re smarter for it. (No rent? Home-cooked meals? It’s not so bad).
- No matter how old you are, guys are usually friendlier and more approachable than girls.
- As awkward as you may think a reunion will be, everyone else feels the same way. And that’s what liquid courage is for.
- Trying to network at a high school reunion is impossible, because everyone you’re talking to is too drunk to realize that you are trying to network with them.
Needless to say, it wasn’t nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. I surprisingly had the most fun night I’ve had in awhile. And the grilled cheese I got from that shady diner at 2 a.m. with a great group of people wasn’t so bad either.
My response to Andres’ mom:
Aida, thank you so much for the response. I will continue to send you and your family good thoughts and keep everyone in my prayers. I have no doubt Andres is watching over everyone.
Also, I know it sounds like a silly question, but Andres really talked about me? You have no idea how much that means to me. He always had a way of talking to me that made me feel so special, and I’m sure others felt the same.
Her response to me:
But of course he did talk about you and he loved you so much! Trust me, you were very special to him! Be happy!
My heart is breaking right now. Why can’t things be different?
And just like that, another incredible person is gone.
Andres had a way of talking to you that made you feel so special, like you were the only one that mattered. We met in fifth grade. He moved to town and we became one of three “couples” in our grade, which all seemed so serious at the time but is very much laughable now. He moved to Kansas City, Missouri with his family at the end of the school year, but we somehow found each other through AOL Instant Messenger a few years later. Shortly after, we exchanged phone numbers and talked often throughout high school. We talked about seeing each other when we were both freshmen in college. And though freshman year rolled around and we were still talking about it, it never happened. But we still continued to keep in touch through Facebook.
And we’ll continue to keep in touch in some way, albeit differently. I sincerely feel that there must be some kind of life after death, and that there must be some way to stay connected to those we have lost. What would be the point of living otherwise?
I sent his mom a message on Facebook expressing my condolences, and she just responded back:
Thanks Gloria! Andres talked about you a lot! So, I know you…..Hope everything is well with you! Again, thanks for your beautiful words and you prayers! Blessings, Aida
It brought me to tears.
There really isn’t much else to say here. Saying goodbye never gets any easier, nor does letting go. I wish things could be different. I wish I could have talked to him just one more time and told him what an amazing person he was.
Yesterday was my birthday. I turned 23. I’ve had some time to reflect on this past year of my life and I am grateful for everything that has come my way. Since this time last year, I finished my Masters, got my first “big girl” job, discovered a new passion (running), went places with said passion (literally and figuratively; I traveled for races), and delved further into the person I want to become.
There is still so much going on in my mind and so much I would like to accomplish by this time next year. I will be running a marathon in a mere week and a half (so. ridiculous). I really want to continue running for as long as I can. I want to get back to working with the elderly. I miss it terribly. I want to discover new passions. I want to travel to new places, and even some old places. I just want to go. Keep moving.
More than anything else though I want to move to a new city. A real city. Sorry Worcester, but our five year relationship reiterated to me that you are not, in fact, a real city. And sorry, Hartford (and any city in Connecticut, for that matter), but you don’t impress me.
I want to go to a major city. I want to grow and thrive there, and shape into the person I want to become. I want to travel home on the holidays, and I want my own apartment. My own overpriced apartment that one would only find in a city. A city like New York. That is what I want.
By this time next year, that is where I want to be. Developing existing passions, discovering new ones, and truly getting an understanding of who I am. Now is the time.
And a year from now, I hope to say that I’ve successfully accomplished everything I’ve mentioned thus far, and more.
…I can’t wait to run this.
And, I can’t wait to make/eat this.
And having a four-day weekend doesn’t hurt either.
Is what I’m talking about. How is it that an infant is the only one who understands how terrifying Lady Gaga’s sense of style is?