This weekend, I helped my best friend pack up and move out of the house she has lived in for the last two years. I knew the end had been coming for a while, but it wasn’t until I walked into her house yesterday to see the couches gone–and the rest of the house almost empty–that it hit me: it’s the end of the era. I couldn’t help but get sad over the fact that we’ll be saying goodbye to all the memories we’ve made over the two, almost three years, they’ve lived there. Of course, we did it in our typical fashion: an abundance of the potion, good company, and a hilarious morning that will be laughed about for a long while to come.
But walking through that now empty house, I couldn’t help but reminisce on how much has changed since that very first party. People have graduated, people have gotten married, people have broken up, and people have started dating. All of us have gone through life altering changes, friendly faces coming and fading out of our close group of friends. Even just thinking about myself, I can’t help but scoff at how different I am from the girl I was then. I went from being the girl in a long term relationship, in a sea of single girls, to being one of the only single girls in a mass of relationships. My hair is longer, and I can definitely handle my liquor better. It’s been a long while since I’ve thrown up on anyone’s couch. Once upon a time, I was the little sister of the group, too shy to even call my friends. Now I’m more then willing to jump right in the party, and I long ago stopped being too shy (or so was witnessed Sunday morning). I don’t think I could have made it through last year without weekend madness at Alyssa’s, drinking way too much gin. So much has happened in the last two years–drunk Monday madness, lost weekends, and random Sunday adventures. While we have an entire summer of crazy drunken antics to look forward to, it’s going to be sad to say goodbye to the memories.
But it’s also got me to thinking about my writing. Sometimes I wish I could truly tell the stories of these drunken nights without fearing who may be reading. The truth is, there is a lot of me, of my life, that I don’t share. Lately it’s got me to thinking about starting a new, faceless blog where I can write about everything without fearing who is reading my words. Not that I care what anyone thinks, but sometimes it’s nice to be able to say everything without holding back. The stories, the boys, this new girl I’ve discovered I am. It’s a tempting thought.