There hasn’t been a single season in our lives where we have disregarded our birthright to friendship, where we’ve treated this human connection as anything other than the most important thing we may ever experience in our lifetimes. Yet, with the advent of each new school year, we are acutely reminded of just how special these friendships are and how much weight they carry in our lives.
In the fall, we leave old friends behind for a short while to reunite with new friends, burning bright beneath a canopy of rusted orange and vibrantly red leaves. We savor our friends like a perfectly ripe peach you’d eat over the sink, juice running in rivulets down to your elbows. We hold our friends close like our favorite flower, which will always bloom again, again, and again, becoming more full as the season wears on. We love our friends like the tide, urged forward and backwards by the moon and lapping gently at the shore, murmuring a message only understood by the breeze, the stars, and the trees.
With each passing day, we are given a powerful choice, and of course we choose friendship again, and again, and again. Because, like the tide will certainly come in every night, like our favorite flower will always bloom, like a ripe peach must always be eaten over the sink, we will always choose you, friend. We put our trust in people only to have it broken, we are wounded by words that cut deeper than the flesh — but because there is always a chance that we will be received and loved, we never give up on that hope, on that glowing hearth that promises the warmth of unbridled, and unconditional love.
Here again in Seattle, with one foot edging out of the past and the other dipped in the future, we know that peach season has come and gone, that flowers are succumbing to the subtle chill of a fall that holds the early promise of winter, and we are nowhere within earshot of the ocean. Yet, here you are. Because there is no metaphor to really describe the layers of you. Because maybe we don’t have a choice over who we get to keep in our lives and some connections may die after a single hello, but you, I’m sure, are here to stay. And how lucky we are to go back to school, with you.
Erin Kim and Anna Brunner
The pleasant autumn temperatures dropped to sharp, nipping chills as winter in Seoul announced its arrival. Inside Mrs. Koh’s house, however, we were cozy and warm. Bibles open, we nibbled at slices of soft, cakey bread and drank mugs of warm yuja (Korean citron) tea.
The word “nostalgia” means something different to everyone. Whether it be your ex’s cologne on a stranger passing by, a grainy baby photo that reminds you of life’s simplicity, or a Snickers wrapper that takes you back to last week’s Notting Hill rewatch, nostalgia finds us in the moments we…
Here’s the long and short of it: I’m exhausted. I’m sure many of you are (or will be once fall quarter gets in gear) exhausted as well. I’ve been back home in California for the summer, and I work full time at a grocery store alongside other various side hustles. I’ll often allocate one of m…
When it was time for me to go to college, my best friend and I didn’t cry. Instead, I said “Good bye, good bye, good bye, good bye” over and over, my head hanging out the window as my dad pulled out of the driveway. “Good bye, good bye, good bye, good bye.”
The plan was simple enough: pack up the car and start our seven hour drive from good ol’ Seattle, Wash. to Bend, Ore. to see boygenius perform later that weekend. The crew — affectionately called “the nonbinaryidiots” in our group chat — comprised of myself, three of my best friends, and a b…
College is often a period where life is in limbo. You’re a student, but not in the way you were before. You may have a job, but probably not one you intend to turn into a career. Your parents might be paying for your education, but not your rent. You’re not a teenager anymore, but you’re als…
The prospect of going to university is an exciting time for students to find their voice, develop their niches, live in a new city, and grow as an individual. However, this magnitude of excitement is oftentimes matched with the equally unnerving task of finding community.
A planner — I can almost guarantee you will not use this after the first week, but it’s fun to look back at the motivation you once had. The Starbucks app — order ahead changed my life.The Canvas app — I find myself constantly checking my to-do.Shoes that don’t slip — don’t make this the yea…
Get up-to-the-minute news sent straight to your device.
