Tonight I rushed home to have one last dinner with some of my first real friends I made here in SF. They are moving to Japan, at least short-term, and maybe long-term. After one of them lost her job, they decided that the other hated his, and so they thought, fuck it, lets hike through Japan (she’s from there) for 3-4 months and see the Japanese countryside.
There are few people I can say this about, but SF will not be the same without them. In a sea of flaky people and self-involved douchebags, those two were the kind of people you could always rely on — no matter what it was — to show up, be there, return your call, whatever. You could rely on them not only to be there for you, but truly enjoy the time that they were spending with you.
I’m not trying to write a eulogy, because I realize they are not dead. And logically, of course, real friendships continue despite distance and all that. Right now, we’re all living in this bubble of, "i’ll come visit, we’ll see each other soon, we’ll come back to the states soon enough. But the truth is, no matter what happens, it won’t be the same as now. And even in same circumstances, same city, same people, just 3 years into the future — it won’t be today or yesterday or the day before.
Growing up, getting older, moving on. It’s all so bittersweet.
