I was glancing through a Facebook photo album and looking at my friends’ smiling faces when the thought finally occurred to me – I don’t have a lot in common with these people anymore.
I had this same thought when I saw a few of them three weeks ago while I was in Las Vegas for APME. We went out for ice cream and awkwardly sat around a table, discussing our lives. The one time it grew a bit lively was when we started reminiscing about something.
I do love them. Don’t get me wrong. These people supported me, made me laugh, let me cry on their shoulders. We make efforts to see each other when we’re in the same city.
But we’re growing up.
Three years ago, we were all on the same page. We were finishing up our senior year of high school and preparing to graduate and take on the world and whatever it had to throw at us. Our worries were relationships, prom, school, Accolades (the student newspaper), JEA trips.
One of my best friends has a baby. Another has graduated from culinary school and has moved in with his girlfriend. I’m only in Las Vegas at holiday intervals throughout the year. We’re different.
I think sometimes that maybe it’s me. I was the one who refused to stay in Las Vegas. I was the one who had to move hundreds of miles away.
What we do have in common is our memories. We will always remember nearly being late to our own graduation, or being mistaken for married couple at the top of the Stratosphere, or climbing the hill of death in San Francisco.
I just hope that’s enough.