Friends

A Tribute

There was hardly any light. The only things I could see were either lit up by the street lamps several feet away in both directions, or from the full moon that shone above me. I was really here now, thousands of miles from where I’ve spent my entire life, and somehow expected to continue, after what felt like completely starting over. I was alone. 

I wanted to see my family, but I couldn’t. I’d already said goodbye, and it would be months before I could go back again. I wanted to see my friends, but they too were gone, now spread out in different places across the country. 

This is where I’m going to be for a long time. I thought to myself, this is it. 

*** 

I held a plate of food in my hands, and my eyes darted around a big room filled with people. The sounds of dishes clanging, dining staff pushing carts, and of students' conversations were everywhere as I walked. It was my first day of college, and I didn’t know where I was going to go, who I was going to sit with, or  what I was going to be. I was really nervous. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw three boys sitting together at a round table. I started toward them, something telling me that they were the people to go to. I approached the table where they were sitting, right behind the one empty chair there was left, and I asked if I could sit with them. They said I could, and relieved, I put my things down. 

“You seem cool,” said one of them, turning to me after we’d been talking for a little while. He pushed his brown shaggy hair back and cleaned his glasses, “We’re gonna tailgate Fenway during the Sox game, would you be down to come with?” 

I nodded. 

*** 

The wind blew in our hair as we played by the pond at the Boston Public Garden. The weather had been beautiful for those weeks, New England in the fall is really special. We had our guitars in our laps, and we sang songs from Fleetwood Mac, Big Star, Elliot Smith, and all the other Messiahs of acoustic guitarists. 

A man on his bicycle rode by ringing his bell and dodging pedestrians. He stopped at a bench nearby us, laying his bike along the grass, and watched us as he took his headphones out of his ears. My friend tapped my shoulder, telling me to take a look at the man who thought our music was worth listening to. 

“What should we play for the man on the bench next?” 

My friend smiled, and he started strumming a melody to another song. 

*** 

All of us were hysterically laughing, we had just gotten stuck in an elevator. Why? Because we jumped. It may have been probably the stupidest thing we’d done all semester. We were so close too, going from floor twelve all the way to the lobby and yet we didn’t stop until the second floor. 

I pressed the call button and told the front desk that we were stuck. I turned off the phone and one of my friends jumped again. We filmed videos and put our faces to the security camera, and we sat in a circle and ran around a space that was probably about 30 square feet. 

We got our emails and official letters from the Residence Directors, telling us that we had to go to a hearing about our incident. I actually got out of it at first, but the funny thing about security cameras is that they film you. They checked the recording, and there I was. 

We stepped into the RD’s office and he sat there relaxed and amused. He asked us a few questions about how we were adjusting to being freshmen in college, then talked a little bit about the elevator incident. He actually went back and showed the video the security camera got of all of us jumping together, and honestly I wanted to ask him if he could send us the video. 

Originally we had to write a one thousand word reflection and pay a fine, but a week later we were notified that we no longer had to write a reflection because we “had already reflected enough on our actions”. Now we say hi to him whenever we see him. 

*** 

The first week of my second semester was probably the hardest of the year. At that point I felt as if I’d lost the energy and motivation I had before. People I’d been close with had left the school, and I missed home.

There was a room down the hall, with a door I saw every day. The first weekend back in school the door was open, and there was someone I knew inside. And another friend. And a cat. I said hello to them, I knew them a little, but not well, and they asked me if I wanted to meet their pet cat. I said yes and I stepped inside. 

We talked for a little while, before they said they had to go run an errand, and asked me to watch the cat when they were gone. After they left I held him in my arms, before eventually he fell asleep for a little while. I was never a big cat person, I’ve only ever had dogs in my house, but something told me that was going to change. 

*** 

I started going to the room down the hall a lot more often, I felt safe and comfortable there. I’d be there after I came back from my night classes or work, or if they were hosting movie nights where they watched many of my favorites. 

We went to parties, museums, and on other adventures around the city. Very quickly, I started to get very close with these new friends of mine, and I greatly admired them. 

On some nights, we would spend hours in practice rooms, which we called our piano rooms, and we’d play all sorts of things. Every time someone would have something new to show and share, or something that they wanted the rest of us to play with them. 

How thrilling, I thought, that I could share my passions with people who were equally as interested and excited as I was. 

***

I feel the worst about myself when other people take care of me. It makes me feel that I’ve failed, because I’m at a point where I can’t even handle myself, and I need others to do it for me. 

I felt it immediately, I knew it was going to be a long night. I took too much too fast, and I felt that I was losing control. I was a prisoner trapped in my own body. My eyes were open, but I couldn’t see, and I didn’t know where I was, or who I was with. I was scared. 

The specific things I saw or the hallucinations I had I can no longer remember, I only know the fact that I had them to begin with. What I do remember, were my friends, surrounding me, and there for me. 

Though I told them over and over again, that I would be back soon, and that I wouldn’t keep needing them like this, they told me that it didn’t matter. 

“Can you hear us,” they said, “It’s going to be okay.” 

*** 

My dorm room was empty, and everytime I spoke I’d hear an echo. My roommate was now gone for good, and it was my final night. My things were all packed in a couple of bags, and I went to sleep alone. 

When I woke up the next morning my friend was there waiting for me, and we ate lunch, said our goodbyes, and got in a car to fly away. I said goodbye to him as we stood at the airport terminal, and wished him well. I didn’t feel the anticipation of getting home this time, at least not in the way I had in the last times I’ve flown back. 

I no longer just had my people in LA— I had my people in Boston too. Even though I was coming home to so many people I’ve missed, I couldn’t help but realize there were so many people I was leaving for a while that I was going to miss too. 

*** 

I stood up in applause for some of my friends from home, as they finished their show. It was one of the best plays, and what I believe to be their best performances, I’ve ever seen. 

There is no way to describe the way I felt when I saw them afterwards, I couldn’t help but smile. One of them put his hand on my shoulder,

“Look at you,” he said, “You’re happy.” 

I paused for a moment, because he was right. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” I told him. 

*** 

I’ve been told so many things by so many different people about what college is supposed to be, or what to expect, or how to utilize it. 

The truth is, I came to college hoping to find friends, 

Instead I found a family.