Lindsey and I, New Year’s Eve 2009

Last night, the news came on and reported that a man had been killed in Oakland, a neighborhood just over the bridge from my house, on a motorcycle. I know a lot of people from Oakland; most of my best friends like there in fact. And all I could think of was Lindsey’s brother, Dustin. He has a motorcycle and lives in Oakland. It made me sick, with a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Fast forward to today: It wasn’t him. (The guy’s name was Dustin though, and he is actually the brother of a girl I knew in high school. Sad news).

Something about that feeling I had last night really opened me up to my relationship with my closest friends. They are my family too. Plain and simple. They have been there for me from day one, stuck with me through the hardest weeks of my life, and empower me to be a good person. They don’t give up.

Maria is in town, and we’re going to lunch tomorrow. She’s one of those people who you can not see for a year (or in our case, longer!) and when you do hang out, nothing at all has changed. You are different people, but your friendship is exactly as strong as it had been when you saw each other every day of sophomore year.

It’s just a good feeling (uh, makes me want to cry) to know that support is always there. We have each other’s backs, and sometimes when we’re too proud to ask for it, the other ones know. Leaning is what we do.

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