Keeping...

So today I ran into a nostalgia about the friends I had when I was in college. Let me take you on a quick journey of "school" for me:

I went to a high school that was very "tv typical".  In many instances I did not fit in any clique: with the white people, I wasn't rich enough, I wasn't smart enough and I didn't hang with the black people because I wasn't cool enough.  I wasn't one of the artsy kids and I wasn't a student athelete, I was just Erica. Instead of searching for that one group of people to spend all my time with, I decided to split my time up with everyone so I would never have to develope a REAL friendship.  I had a rotating schedule at lunch, I would laugh with the most random soul walking and I would dap up all the dudes posted up.  By me developing this mentality, I ended being one of the most popular kids in the school.  I won Homecoming Queen and I was on the Prom Court. At the end of the day, I didn't have many friends, I just had a lot of associates.

Sure I knew a lot of people, but how many of those people knew how sad I was at times? None.  How many of those people knew that I had an eating disorder? None.  How many of those people knew the abuse I was enduring? None. 

I decided to go to a Historically Black University because I wanted to be more "intuned" with my own culture.  Let me tell you, the first couple of weeks, I saw it as high school all over again. There were cliques galore: the party people, the Greek people, the Honor's College Kids, the Band kids, the "Churchy Kids" (who were also in the Gospel choir) and the University Choir Kids. Because of my major and my participation in the University Choir, I fell into the category of being a UC kid.  We would randomly harmonize to a song on the radio or in the breezeway or in the cafe or would randomly laugh at people who thought they could sing.  There was a group of us that came in together.  We seemed like we were all meant to be in the same space at the same time.  We become more than just a choir, we became FRIENDS. We started having late-night runs to Walmart and Cookout which included long chats outside our buildings.  We started learning about the daunting pasts that we all seemed to be running away from. We started to recognize that NOTHING happens by accident but EVERYTHING happens for a reason.  I knew that at 12:oopm everyday, I would meet with a group of people who wanted to understand me for at least 50 minutes but many instances it would go beyond that 50 minutes.  In this time I met some of the most influential people who became mentors, friends, sisters and brothers.  Once I recognized that they accepted me flaws and all, I became confident in who I was and I begin to merge into other groups and meeting other people outside of my circle.  I started becoming passionate about things that I knew was in my realm of control.  I started to become me.  Now, sure these four years were filled with moments of frustration, anger, hurt and mistrust, but those moments are so faint because the buckets of laughters and "ah-ha" moments were PLENTIFUL! 

And I am coming to understand that:  I miss my friends that cared about what I had to say.  I miss my friends that would care enough about me to tell me what they had to say.  I miss my friends that would understand the purpose of my laughter and tears.  I miss my friends who were strong enough to defend me at all cost.  I miss my friends that would not complain about the struggle but work hard enough to take away someone else's struggle.  I miss the authenticity.  I miss the late night talks.  I miss the friendship.  Now that I am a few hundred miles away, I still haven't found that feeling.  That comfort.  That joy.  That peace.  I want it back.

I want to Be brave. Be ready