FADED FRIENDS

A tall kid rounds Theta and walks toward Willard, staring at his feet. The air’s fresh and sweet, a bit cold, and he’s completely lost in thought. At around A Phi, Nancy heads towards Harris 10 minutes early for class. Should be another busy day. At Chi Omega, the two will cross paths and be forced to utter something to the other. Perhaps they’d kissed years back, maybe shared the same peer advising group, grooved vigorously at a sweaty north campus function. They know each other some way, some how, the reason for their acquaintance nebulous as it is purposeless.

Almost 100 yards before their encounter, they simultaneously glance upward and notice who else is sharing the narrow sidewalk. It’d be easier to be rude, and just walk past without any meaningless exchange. Inevitably, they'll have to open their mouths and smile, but what should they have to say? At their prescribed junction, they make faint eye contact and toss a half-hearted smile. I mean, was their really any need to say anything anyway?

Honestly, what more could have been done? A hug, overboard. A conversation, maybe, but discuss what? Classes? Mutual friends? Exchange a few idle words, then exit with some lame cop-out? Casual talk can't revive a dead cat.

Upon arrival, and, more intensely in the subsequent years, wildcats abashedly become aware of a certain awkwardness that defines a considerable portion of their interactions. The archetypal NU student’s every bit as good at being awkward as he or she is at, say, anything else.

I often ask, when we leave for school each year, do we leave more of our ease at home? Do we lose ourselves in self-absorption, or do we just know, “but not really know know,” too many people?

Fun, frequent inebreation once united you and I, but our frienship’s fading fast with the passing time. It seems as though the foundation didn’t last.

Once, we only had awkward conversations with crushes, or former dates. Now, as a junior or senior, we struggle with almost everyone, far more folding friendships than blossoming ones.

Years have passed, I remember you’re from the city of angels, but we don’t have a desperate, innocent rapport anymore, like we used to, like when we were freshman desperate to make a new friend. I hate to say, it’s been a long, long time since I’ve had you on my mind. Longer since I cared.

The college tenure inevitably comes to a screeching halt. Nostalgic reflection helps to cope with the awkwardness … the sad realities of so many paper-thin acquaintances.

Sorry to say, I guess it mattered little, anyway.
Later, man. Bye, bye, Sally. Ed, oh Ed. Ed Ed Ed.

- David Bartholow

At 2/8/03 7:41 AM,

wrote:

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Redefining the NU Stereotypes
14 new categories of Wildcat
by David Bartholow, Luke Winn and Manu Krishnan