Looking through old photos and I found one of my junior homecoming dance. It was the night after my dad’s funeral. My friend who’d stayed with me the entire week, in my bed, through all the tears, made me get out of bed that night. She pulled my shirt up over my head and told me to get in the shower. She washed my hair for me. She curled it. She rubbed foundation onto my face, lined my eyes, and put me in my dress.
She contacted my other friends who were feeling awkward and unsure of what to do and told them the party was still on, to meet at my house for photos before the dance.
They all showed up, and I went to the dance, and we all screamed and cried, and I took my first step to healing.
I haven’t spoken to that girl in five years. Nothing happened. I moved away. She fell in love. We grew apart and into our own lives.
It’s strikes me how beautiful the ephermeral nature of teenage friendships can be.
We may not need each other now, but there was a time when I needed her more than anyone. And sometimes she needed me.
And the universe put us together just then. Just when it was most important. Not a year too late or too soon. The same town, the same school, the same classroom where we could meet. Right when it mattered.
We come and go from people’s lives every day, and along the way we may get a chance to love someone fully, just for a little while.
I’ll remember every single one.
