Moments ago, I was going to pour on to this page many scathing words about how my life feels like is a total mess right now. And, then I remembered a text my best friend sent me last night so I decided to save my lamentations for another evening.
In June, I wrote a post entitled “The Dissolution of Post Grad Friendships,” tackling the sober reality of how things change, people grow apart, and nothing lasts forever. Or, something like that. But a few weeks ago, I jotted on my white board full of ideas (yes, I have a white board full of ideas in my bedroom; didn’t think I was that sexy, now, did you?) ”The Evolution of Post Grad Friendships” because a happier, less bitter Tyece would like to believe that not all relationships dissolve. Some evolve.
The story goes a little something like this: Mills (one of her many names) was the new kid three weeks in and she sat behind me in 6th grade math class. I had box braids down my back so obviously, I was the shiznit and couldn’t be bothered with newbies; I had my own agenda that involved a 6th grade boy. Somehow, box braids aside, we got to talking. She will tell you she invited me to her birthday party and I didn’t show up which angered her poor 6th grade heart to no end; I will tell you I have absolutely no recollection of that invitation. Nonetheless, we became friends.
And, as I wrote in an award-winning 6th grade essay, the rest is history.
Twelve years have ebbed and flowed. We’ve cried. We’ve fought. I may have threatened to punch her in the face the night of college graduation; I believe my exact words were “pop you in the face” but anyone who knows me knows I can’t pop a balloon, let alone another human being. We’ve shared secrets and sorrows and salacious stories. I have prayed no one ever hacks our texts because these exchanges are not rated PG, kids. But, more importantly, we have laughed. We have laughed until we’ve cried, until we’re curled on the floor not even remembering the impetus of our laughter. I call her when I’m freaking out about moving (yesterday) and she tells me two weekends to pack a one-bedroom apartment is really more than enough time. We’ve seen each other through boyfriends and break-ups, ex-boyfriends and make-ups, and then more break-ups. She’s taught me how to have an opinion but respect other people’s rights to make their choices and live through the tides of their own lives. She has talked me through my life’s deepest trenches. I could write 5,000 more words but just know our twelve-year friendship is one of my life’s most prized gems.
Friendships grow and expand and sometimes contract, but often times, they evolve. They don’t have a set beginning and end, a definitive point at which they’ve exhausted their potential. Truly amazing friendships are endless rubber bands that stretch along with the people in them. Just a few weeks ago, with another friend, I burst in to tears, telling her how proud I was of the choices she has made while navigating a thorny post-grad existence. Me? Crying? About someone else growing up? Yes, clearly this is an evolution of sorts.
And, then there are my sisters who are as much a part of me as my own DNA. But, I know they will require a separate blog post so I’ll just pencil that in. (Love you, guys.)
I believe I’ll see my friends through boyfriends and fiances and husbands. I believe I’ll witness fat bellies that turn in to babies. I believe I will watch them claw their way up the corporate ladder or find peace in a quiet suburban existence or take over the effing planet; whatever they want. Because that is what friendship is. Evolution.
Xoxo,
Tyece