「인사」a fraction of memory
On Saturday night, nine of us constellated at the Cheesecake Factory to say adieu before diverging onto our vastly different paths this fall. I remember it in bits and pieces -- Tracy's bewildered expression at our boisterous birthday serenade five months too early (we still get points for our subtlety!), our hilarious charades routines: 'French baguette', 'Fortinbras', 'Queen Guenevere', 'sautéed' -- and perhaps most importantly, Leo's silly psychological experiment to convince passing strangers to look up at the sky.
While I think this an odd memory on all accounts, I also remember every fool that every other friend of mine has ever been. It's a mouthful and it happens. "Why not?" I say out loud, and even at your same gestures I cannot suppress my incoherent laughter. The goodbyes are inevitable at this point, like knowing precisely how a siren sounds before it does -- but even so, I am forfeiting the terror and sadness of nostalgia for the sanctuary of its excitement and love. We may say 'Never a novelty', 'Never an accident', 'Never a never', but I am glad we can still be surprised at life's magnificence in peculiar places. You all reached for my hand at different points in the past eight years, and my fingers are still entwined around yours.