I stared at the couple across from me on the metro. They laughed and held hands as I guessed at the details of their relationship—how did they meet? What is her name?
I continued to stare, but lost focus on the couple as I approached my stop. I remembered that my time abroad was already half over, as is my time as a Georgetown undergraduate.
When I think about the transience of this period in our lives, my studies and activities fade into the background. These times of unavoidable and sometimes intrusive self-reflection more often center on the relationships I’ve made as a college student. I cannot help but compare them to past relationships, wondering if they’re different or stronger. This look into the past urges me to evaluate them in the context of my imminent future.
“We will stay in touch. Write messages online—even Skype-chat! I will come visit you in D.C.,” my friend softly assured me as she tugged at my white high school graduation dress. I acknowledged her comment with a slight nod and a smile, outwardly signaling that I, too, was sure that our futures would remain interlaced. In my mind, however, I was not so certain. The smiles and hugs were superficial.
Even in the moment, I believed strongly that a majority of the people in that room would soon lose their relevance in my life. I had difficulty pushing back my doubt. I felt it creep deep into my thoughts toward everyone, including my close friends. I left the ceremony that day in full acceptance and anticipation of the disintegration of current relationships.
My expectations for old friendships were realized during my first year at Georgetown. I fell out of touch with a lot of close friends. Although we still made the effort to see each other on breaks, it felt forced and unnatural. I grew increasingly detached from my high school friends because they could only see the person I was in high school, someone very different from the one I had grown to be.
These experiences provide a compelling lens through which I will view my college relationships when I enter the next phase in my life. I concede that the way I view my past will affect how I approach my future. This unconventional disposition toward friendship, however, does not make me a cold person.
Relationships are capable of surviving beyond the time of life in which they were formed. Lasting relationships change in accordance with the people involved and are not built around incidentals; they do not remain stagnant. We should recognize that these connections are rare and that short-lived relationships are not deserving of shame. We must avoid subscribing to a framework that encourages the labeling of friendships as either good or bad, long or short. They are deserving of more creative and more forward thinking.
As I was picking up my mother’s drycleaning this summer, I ran into a former high school classmate. After identifying each other, we shared a momentary embrace and began the usual dance of old friends: “How is school?” “Are you still dating John?” Our conversation lacked depth and was characterized by an underlying feeling of distance and melancholy.
We both recognized that our friendship had not continued past high school, and we were okay with that. We understood that the other had changed with time and we didn’t feel the need to force a future.
The transition from high school to college taught me that fluctuations in the intensity of relationships are impossible to predict: my closest friend today actually did sit with me on graduation three years ago.
Similar to high school, my college friendships vary. Some do not extend beyond incidentals like mutual classes while others feel more reliable, stronger even. Though I do feel more confident about my relationships at Georgetown, I cannot say for certain that the bonds will remain this way forever. But as I felt this summer meeting an old classmate, I’m comfortable with not knowing how my friendships may evolve in the coming years.
We should enjoy college relationships for what they are now and hope that they persist in the future. But we should allow them to run their natural course. It is okay to let friends go because we make new ones—sometimes, better ones.
