People change, as we’ve been told most of our lives. The friends you have today may not remember you in 5 years. I firmly believe that people don’t really change; they just become more assertive expressions of their true selves, making you question if you ever even knew them at all.
But what are human beings if not wandering moths drawn to the light of company, only to be burnt to a crisp when they get too close.
College friends are a particularly special breed. They’re part of a lot of “firsts”: your first drink, first hangover, first job, first rejection, first Tinder hookup, first Goa trip(if you’re lucky). Naturally, they take up a certain importance associated with this sense of shared novelty. You have a group of weirdos that adore each other. You may not take a bullet for them but you’d definitely take that extra shot(or five). Together, you can conquer the world. Together, you are the coolest group of people that ever existed.
Then the inevitable happens: college ends. Everyone drifts, and it takes a while to fathom just how much. They drift to different cities, countries, continents; to different interests, and finally different people. Your invincible gang is reduced to a whatsapp group for stale memes. Fragments emerge from the ashes; everyone finds the ones easiest to “chill” with. Small lifeboats row away in different directions from the sinking ship, and soon your awesome shared vessel is a relic at the bottom of the ocean.
Your little lifeboat crew is the people who chose to stick together when things got tough. Now that you have to go further than just a different classroom/cafeteria, the divide becomes apparent and the people start filtering out. Soon you’re left with only those that were too thick to pass through the sieve.
And in the end, it’s all about the people who stay.