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We were the ones who went to the Cellar and passed around a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chunky Monkey, sang karaoke, listened to the band of the guy with the spikey hair.
We spent countless hours in each other’s rooms but this weekend had a difficult time remembering the names of roommates and mens’ dorms.
We dated each other, loved one another, played so many games of Euchre and Apples to Apples I couldn’t ever begin to imagine the numbers. We had 24-hour movie marathons with French onion dip and Fritos, chai tea and out-of-town guests.
We had next-door on-campus apartments, a scary couch of death, Hamburger Helper in the tiny old kitchen, two beach houses, and a body-shaped dent in the wall.
In August, Mr. V and I attended a wedding in Boston for one of our best friends from college. We joined up with my best friend Michelle, her fiance – one of our college gang, and another dear friend (both men lived with Mr. V our senior year, and Michelle and I lived next door).
We hadn’t seen the groom in two-and-a-half years, we didn’t even know how he met his bride, but it didn’t matter. He is our Sam, was one of the groomsmen in our wedding, and we needed to be there.
It’s been over seven years since we graduated from college; we’ve lived in two cities and are moving in our fourth home since that time. Seven years of marriage, death of Michelle’s mom, break-ups and get-togethers, several countries and even more states under our respective belts.
Post-college friendships are different. You don’t spend as much time together. You aren’t all removed from family and all former friends. You don’t spend time laying on green astroturf fields, staring at the stars, doing cartwheels, and sharing dreams. You don’t sing numerous duets with your best friend to Broadway songs (and always make her be the guy).
These people are etched so deeply in my heart I can’t unravel them from the rest of my heart’s joys and wants and passions. In an uncharacteristic sappy moment, I hugged the neck of my sweet Michelle, who is moving thousands of miles away, and told her, “My life is better because I met you.”
Maybe we do still sing Broadway songs together. Just not in the same way.
Do you have songs, places, foods that define your college experience? I’d love to hear your reminiscing.
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