But of course, time passed, and I was introduced to more and more wonderful souls. In high school, my dance team and I saran wrapped our crush's car during a football game. We wrapped the entire car and put peanut butter under the door handles. My ability to be wise and mature beyond my years is something I'm most proud of. After transferring to JMU, I remember strolling into Business Law, exuding a psuedo-confidence as I took a seat in the "black corner." Just when I thought it'd be difficult to win over these people who had clearly established bonds that didn't include me, a meek, light-skinned girl named Victoria swiveled her chair around and asked quietly, "What's your name?" I'll never forget pretending to be wide awake the day her phone call interrupted my nap as she invited me to lunch.
Shortly after, I met two more girls, and we all moved in together. We spent nights quoting lines like, "I wanna do hoodrat stuff wif my frans," and following suit. Victoria was the most responsible out of the group, so when she was sleep, we'd do things we knew she wouldn't approve of. One boring JMU night, we lit a slug on fire. Another night, we realized we were 20 and had never smoked before, so we snuck to Wal-Mart and bought what we believed to be the classiest cigarettes they had available (Virginia Slims are classy, right? Turns out, they're all gross.). We smoked one each before hiding them forever in my bottom drawer.
The list of memories is endless, and as I neared graduation in 2010, they just piled on. I met SO many amazing men and women that have left an impact, and while I've gone through a few phases in my young adult life--both honorable and not-so-honorable--I ultimately made it out of undergrad a better woman. I have God and these people to thank for that.
As I've stated before, I moved to NYC with no friends, only family. I maintained a 365 blog based on my adventures with my cousin, Malikkah, but for the first few months here, the feeling of being surrounded by the love of friends was becoming foreign. After driving almost 400 miles to JMU, I sat on my friend Ciera's couch and broke down about how lonely I'd gotten. I made a transition from being constantly surrounded by people I love to feeling alone in the biggest city in the country. Ciera held me in her arms as I bawled. I wasn't happy, although my blog stated otherwise. I could only continue to put up a front until reality matched my daily posts.
I eventually met Michelle, someone who was something like a godsend. We had the same quirky sense of humor, were both new to the city, and had only one thing on our minds--falling in love with NYC and all its splendor. Exploring on a budget, we spent late nights at Blockheads, filling up on that good cheap tequila, and drunkenly wandering through the city, snapping pictures along the way. Although she was just one person, I had met many others through her, and my eagerness to get out and enjoy the city actually led me to connect with other old friends I had no idea moved here. I wasn't lonely anymore. I had my own real life in NYC, and I was so content. I still am.
Exchanging stories about friends back home was hardly enough; I wanted her to put faces and personalities to the stories! She'd never understand why Victoria's jokes are so funny; it's not necessarily the joke she tells, it's the fact that quiet little Delicate breaks the silence to talk about how much she hates sub-par penis. Hearing about Tiona's ability to drink like a fish is hardly enough; Michelle needs to see her in action. The girl doesn't even flinch when taking shots. It's impressive. I wanted Michelle to see all of this, so...I blended my worlds.
Have you ever been in a relationship where your signif seems to have a completely separate life? They mention names you've never heard of, frequent places they've never taken you, and make memories without even filling you in on a the great time they had. It's tough! You want nothing more than to feel included, but unfortunately, the blending of worlds is a foreign concept to some. It's even harder when you're in a long distance relationship. Not only are you not near physically, but there's a rift that seems to grow deeper as you feel like you're not a vital part of their life. You begin to feel things like, why don't they want me to meet their friends? Am I not fun enough? Are there secrets I'd find out upon meeting some of these friends? The list is endless. No matter how old we are, the desire to feel included is one that never leaves. I'll admit that now, as a freelancer, I enjoy having my alone time. I get to know myself better and fall in love with Janna more and more. But just as I have the desire to feel included, I know that as a long distance lover to my friends in other states, I must include them in my separate life. I never want them to feel as if I've forgotten how kickass they are as friends and started a new life that doesn't include them. I never wanted Michelle to feel like she can't measure up to the friends I rave about every chance I get. I'm in love with my friends, so, it was only fitting that they meet.
Whenever she's able to escape from her job, I pack up Michelle in my suitcase and bring her along for a road trip, making sure to stop at the first Chick Fil-A we see. Whether we're staying in DC, Northern VA, Richmond, or Harrisonburg, my family and friends embrace her as if they've known her for years. And their friends do the same with me.
I'll never believe that every single person in my life needs to meet and become friends, because that's the beauty in having diverse circles. Every group of friends serves a unique and vital purpose, and they don't and shouldn't always overlap. I am, however, a firm believer that when you love someone as much as I love my girls, and you meet someone who is equally awesome, why not allow your worlds to collide? Relationships, friendships. In so many ways, it's all the same.
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