Not for the first time I look back on all those years

Not for the last time names will ring in my ear

When there was just a gang of us storming the town by train and bus

A moment of thought this heart sends to old friends

Old Friends by Everything But the Girl


It was the season, I think, that brought us all together— at least what was left of us who still remembered. The plans themselves were, in the beginning, somewhat spontaneous and sketchy, but in the end, we settled on what was old and familiar: coffee and conversation, just like the old days. We were professionals now, coming in ties and sleeves, barongs and pointed shoes, and while the talk flowed free and easy, it became clear that while we had come from the same place, we no longer were the same people; and the only common present we shared was a common past, now somewhat even imagined.

Make no mistake about it, though: the days we had were good days; no doubt, we had a good run. Those days will remain to be one of the most colorful days of my life, as I am sure, of the others' as well. And while the nostalgia did not quite fully descend this evening, teetering, as it did on the edge of remembrance, these memories— to borrow from Neal Marlens— will certainly stay with us for the long haul. Indeed, as one of us observed, we only had each other to understand; in our insecure youth, who else did we have?

But life happened, and we chose to live it, in our own way, at least, without having to feel responsible for or accountable to anyone else. Indeed, it was not that we fought, or had any misunderstanding, or that we drifted apart. We felt no betrayal, no heartache at some frustrated future, no regret for some unfinished past. Sitting there in that coffee shop, we knew exactly what had happened: we had grown up; we had outgrown each other.

We parted with handshakes and hugs, getting into our cars, driving in different directions. Ingat, pare. Sa uulitin. Some things change. Some things stay the same. Same time next year, I thought, if ever.