It’s Not Where, But Who You’re With That Really Matters*

The first time we met, she was wearing the most hideous green and white shorts outfit I had ever seen.

She’ll tell you, the first time we met, she hated me.

I remember stumbling into her room, along with my batshit crazy roommate and I couldn’t help but judge this little girl, hovering in her new dorm digs, almost hiding behind her father.  I introduced myself, loudly I assume, as I rarely have a volume control, and she begrudgingly reciprocated.  We spoke briefly about where I was from, how much I missed my boyfriend from home, that she was from Jersey and that she’d relocated back to the states from Germany after graduation and after her Dad’s military assignment was over.  Although at first we clicked about as well as cheese and chocolate, something about her drew me in.

During college orientation events that August, I’m not sure if I asked her or vice versa, but somehow we agreed to take a walk together, through the streets of this new, unfamiliar urban territory, to attend some soiree’ planned, I’m sure, in an attempt to help us freshman get over the certain shock of embarking on college life AND living in the big city.

We began walking from our dorm, down Marlborough Street.  It was dark and neither of us had a clue where we were going, but I somehow convinced her I knew, precisely, the way.  Which, alas, I did not.  Block after block we chatted and, invariably, at the next intersection she’d ask, “Um, are we there yet?”  And my response would always be, “Not quite!  Just one more block!”  Eight city blocks later (for those of you playing along, familiar with the Back Bay area of Boston, we walked from Mass Ave to Berkeley via Marlborough…nice walk but long-ish), we arrived, no worse for wear and in the span of those eight blocks, among the cobblestone sidewalks, and in the shadows of both Hancock buildings, we cemented a friendship that would span nearly 20 years and thousands of miles of distance.

Why am I telling you this?

Because the dreams we have about our life and our vision of how it should unfold and the realities of the hand the universe deals us often don’t jive.  We imagine the successful career, the husband of Harlequin romance novels, the wedding folks speak of as legend, perfectly behaved well coiffed children, a tasteful, well appointed home to call our own, growing old and aging gracefully.  But, what REALLY happens?  Not much that you planned for, that’s what.

But, sometimes, if you’re lucky, like me, you may keep one thing from those dreams about life.

Your best friend.

And, sometimes, she makes all the difference.

(JKD, this one’s for you.)

*Dave Matthews Band, The Best of What’s Around