Bonfire Reflections, On Friendship
(This morning, I came across this piece I wrote in my notes app two years ago. I didn’t have the courage to share it publicly then, but want to give it some exposure now.)
Last night I got together with some of my old friends. My best friend from elementary and middle school, one of my good friends from K-12, and one of my closest friends from high school. It was a spontaneous get-together, nothing crazy, some drinks around the fire pit.
When getting back together with old friends, I always worry about not knowing what to say or sitting in awkward silencing as we all realize that we’ve grown apart or weren’t as good friends as we might have thought. Rarely does it ever turn out that way, but it’s an always present thought in the back of my mind.
As we all sat down at the fire pit, we exchanged greetings and started with typical catch-up talk. How is life? How’s your family doing? School going well? The awkward rust was slowly scrubbed off as we began to settle.
The conversation began to pick up, and we reminisced on old memories and discussed our futures. It may not have meant much to them, but it was a grounding conversation for me.
Amid a life full of chaos, doubt, and stress, it reminded me of not only who I once was but who we all once were. All of us carrying pieces of our past in our current personalities. Seeing how each of us had changed and went down different paths while still being able to recognize the parts that we were drawn to years ago was a special feeling for me.
Sometimes I get too caught up in my future and separate myself into two different people. Who I was before college and who I’ve been since. Life happens in phases, but recently I’ve found myself trying to sever that tie to the past.
I’ve always believed that every person’s identity is informed by past experiences, but I’ve been trying to live a life ignoring the first eighteen years of my life. I’ve forgotten that my past, the “good” and the “bad,” are what have made me who I am today. There is no stark divide. I am infinite versions of myself. Changing with each relationship and experience but strung together on a continuum — not siloed off.
As we got up and went our separate ways, I couldn’t help but feel that my soul had been recharged. We didn’t know when we’d all see each other again, and we didn’t know where we’d all be in life the next time we met. And I think that’s the beauty of it, not knowing. I’ve tried to fight the ambiguity of life for so long, not fully grasping that the grey areas of life are what makes it precious.
To reconnecting, with the past and with old friends.
