As I leave this city—this place where I took my first breath, where I rode my first bicycle, where I had my first kiss—I have come to realize that all these things will soon be no more than memories. Friends have left to start new journeys, and still I feel as though I never got to bid them farewell. And so this is to friends, friends who are here, and friends who have left, and friends who have yet to leave.

To the one with whom I walked every cul-de-sac, laughing of rabbits making love and sharing childhood stories.

To the ones with whom I sang in choir, complaining and disrupting and trying not to pass out in tighter-than-corsets, i-dare-you-to-breathe-without-busting-a-seam concert uniforms.

To the one with whom I went to French bakeries and Italian restaurants, saying nerdy things and dancing to Sigur Ros.

To the ones with whom I played Catchphrase, laughing of diaper rashes and popping cherries.

To the one with whom I often went hiking, discussing philosophies and pondering the hobbies of Asians before the age of the camera.

To the ones with whom I shared a passion of music, playing together in quartets and sextets and symphonies.

To the one with whom I rocked out to Vampire Weekend, the car rocking platonically with coitus-like fervor and the windows fogging up to hide the cold rain.

To the ones with whom I played SET for absurd lengths of time, our minds becoming increasingly sluggish.

To the one with whom I stood in a directionless elevator, talking of random things and wondering why the lift still hadn’t moved (we forgot to push a floor button).

To the ones with whom I watched Kung Pao and Airplane! and P.S. I Love You, laughing and crying our eyes out.

To the one with whom I ate plate after plate of cafeteria food, cramming pecan pie into our overstuffed stomachs.

To the ones with whom I stayed up until nearly 3 am, dancing and talking and eating and playing rock-paper-scissors.

To the one with whom I wrote epic emails, scribing Ben and Jerry’s ice cream flavors and the ups and downs of life.

To the ones with whom I went to math camp, basking in our love of math and refusal to engage in anything un-geeky.

To the one with whom I laughed until my throat is parched, quoting The Big Bang Theory and Professor Richard Feynman, watching The Pink Panther (Ah! It’s a bum! It’s a bum!), dancing the Caltech-originated nerd moves, and translating paragraphs from language to language until all that is left is “To breathe fire on the legs, yet warm and snuggly, and others.”

And to my sister, my very best friend, whom I photograph and boss around, whom I talk and eat and laugh with, whom I love with all my heart.



(This picture is actually of my sister and her three best friends… but the theme fit, so I decided to still use it for this post.)


~ by thechanster on 12:57 am, Saturday, September 13, 2008.

2 Responses to “Friends”

  1. This makes me want to cry, it’s so sweet. Good luck!

  2. To the friend who was always there for me; to the friend who always offered her shoulder for me to cry on; to the friend who would scream with laughter with me equally over the power of exponentiation, rabbits, sexual innuendos, and Big Bang Theory jokes; to the friend who would listen to my constant complaints over a subject she loved, and would commiserate and comfort me, and who I also commiserated over a class that I loved; to the friend who would share with me my joys and my sorrows; to the friend who shared with me the joy of college acceptance, jumping up and down and screaming in the middle of the theatre lobby and for once I didn’t care who heard; to the friend who taught me to enjoy life to the fullest, laugh as loud as I could and as often as I could; to the friend who would laugh with me over baking fiascos and frozen jello; to the friend who would talk equally with me about math, writing, music, musicals, childhood, future, present; to the friend who would try to assuage my fear every day about never being good enough and who was always just as self-deprecating about her own talents; to only friend I would get up before noon for; to the friend who was my sexy dance partner for winter formal and prom; to the friend who would discuss with me the past, the future, and present; to the friend who was the first to know when I first started dating; to the friend with whom I would talk for hours and days and years and yet the never ran out of things to share; to the friend with whom silence was equally joyful, for in it lay the peace of comraderie; to the friend who was always so joyful and energetic, and yet who also loved the simple beauty of nature; to the friend who would read my feeble attempts at poetry and for whom I would willingly spend hours reading her writings and write impossibly long responses to; for the friend who I truly believe to be talented at everything, and to be a genius, much as she denies it; to the friend for whom I am now sobbing at my computer because we are at complete opposite ends of the country, and yet the tears are both of joy and of sorrow–for all the memories we share, for all the years I hope to create more with her; to the friend whom I miss more every day, and whose days I hope are as sunny as her smile; to the friend who I wish every happiness that life has to offer. I love you, Charlotte Chan. And happy belated birthday.

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