Tall. Dark. Handsome. And blonde, yes one of them is blonde. Still handsome, though. And smart. They're all so smart! And interesting, and funny, and caring. Each one planted a big kiss on my cheek - or lips - when we said hello. HELLO! Engulfing me in a long, strong, embrace.
Dressed up in their suits, at a rehearsal dinner in Dubuque, Iowa, they looked good. We have known each other for eight years now. And somewhere between now and the last time we were all together - months and months and months ago - the fact that our friendships are this old is somewhat believable. Because in looking at them now, they do... They look older.
But not one of them has changed.
MJC still steals the spotlight with his stories. And KJS still practices that good-looking scowl in between sips of Scotch that he guzzles like water. NW still quiet and sweet, an interesting conversationalist who can always make me laugh. LR always the manic dreamer with his crazy ideas that make everyone shake their heads. ESB the constant flirt, his grin and raised brow a clear indication that trouble is on the way. And while BAC has settled down, happily, JBB is as antsy as ever, still able to make my heart overflow with love. (But that is the topic of another post...)
No, they haven't really changed. At all. Except for CCE - the groom - and the reason for our congregation this weekend. As MJC said in his toast, CCE was always a "work in progress." The brunt of many jokes over his choice in shoes (white high tops), jeans (acid wash tapered leg), and belt (long and braided), he was always easy on the eyes. And I will probably never forget the first time we met, at the Newcomb Hall dining room. His warm smile and sparkling eyes haven't changed a bit.
But he is no longer thinking someone is out to get him. Or looking for a fight. No longer always in a state of disarray. With Her by his side he stands taller. He is composed. He appears stronger, yet softer.
And if you could have seen him beam as he walked his mother down the aisle, and then waited at the alter - you would have cried, too. No longer the hot guy I met at UVA. That hot guy with whom I shared a few weeks of dance floor kisses and date function dinners. That hot guy who was so understanding when I told him I was getting back together with my boyfriend. Who said he still just wanted to be a part of my life. CCE was - IS - that great guy who meant what he said. He's the guy who wouldn't say it if he didn't mean it. That great guy who made me realize I wanted him to be a part of my life, too. And therefore turned into one of my best friends.
CCE is that guy who eight years later - after laughter and tears and late nights and early mornings and good drunks and bad drunks and heartbreaks and new loves - invites you to his wedding. And because you can't imagine not being there, you go. Despite terrible travel schedules and a destination "at the edge of the world" in Iowa.
You go, and you sit at the dinner. With him and these boys. Who are your closest friends and whom you miss so much. And you cry a little when the slide show plays. And you cry a little during the toasts. You cry when CCE says I do. Because eight years ago, none of you thought about this day. When you would start to REALLY grow up and get married.
But in the back of your mind, you knew this day would come. And you knew that you would share this day with these people. These boys who helped you finish those problem sets. Who proofread your thesis. Who helped you study and shared with you their old tests. Who drove you to the airport to visit your long distance boyfriend. And who let you wipe snot on their shoulder when the boyfriend and you fell apart. Who gave you high fives when other boyfriends came along. Who drank you under the table, and then held your hair when you puked. Who protected you like their little sister.
Four years after graduation, I know that nothing has ended. I can still feel that bond - that bond that so clearly shines through that slideshow picture of everyone at O'Neil's that night in September 2001. Back when we didn't know where we were headed, only with whom we were headed out there. Even if only in spirit, because friendships like these defy physicality. No, the good times aren't over. They're just on the ends of longer weeks and months, now.
Through four years of college and the four years since college ended, my female friendships have strengthened and waned. New bonds have formed in new cities and at new jobs. Some have strengthened through exciting journeys, while others have weakened as the To Do List grew. I love every one of my girlfriends. But my relationships with them are not the same as my relationships with my guy friends. The loyalty I have found in the boys I met in my dorm, in First Year Engineering classes, and at the dining hall is unparalleled. And the love I have developed for them stretches from Charlottesville, through DC and Chicago and Boston and now out to San Francisco despite all logic saying it wouldn't. It is ephemeral.
These boys turned hot guys turned best friends turned big brothers turned other women's husbands turned honest, admirable, good men.
I love them so much it hurts.
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