Thirteen years ago, I graduated from high school, and my confession is this: I only actively communicate with one friend from the first 18 years of my life.
When I was younger, someone told me that the older you get, the more you will long for the people who knew you when you were young. I couldn’t agree more and, in recent years, have found myself missing those childhood friends.
To where, then, do they disappear?
They go to college.
They invest in romantic relationships.
They pursue professional opportunities.
They have children.
This is the secret held by the other side of adulthood: Friends don’t keep.