Two of my beloved roommates, who are a couple, have declared their intention to find a house for themselves, thus splitting up our proud cadre of five. We've lived together for as many years, since 2006, and we all placed such stock in each other, such faith in our friendship together and our times together. They are my second family, and this feels like a breakup, if an amicable one.
These friends intend to buy a house in the neighborhood we're living in, so in some ways, it's like a more permanent foundation for our friendship. Wherever I go in the next years, they will, more than likely, be here in the East End for me to visit. But the spontaneous good times are gone-- the random heart-to-hearts, the easy dinners cooked together, the group parties, the endless in-jokes. We will now have a more conventional friendship where we won't see each other unless we visit. And I can't help but feel a little mortified. My friends are no traditional married couple by any reckoning, but this is a step in the direction of becoming more domestic. Settling down is not in my foreseeable future, and I hope that we can have much in common regardless of the fork in our paths. I hope we can remain close. Friends moving away is a reality for our generation, and some of mine I have remained by my side, but others have definitely drifted away. The thought of the latter happening upsets me.
I try to embrace change. Eulogy in greek is eu logia, a "speech of goodness." When you mourn something's passing, you mourn the beauty of what it was, and so part of embracing change is embracing the sadness it brings wholeheartedly. There is much to come, more wonder and beauty than I could possibly imagine, including moments with these friends, but much is being lost. I'll do my best to experience every aspect of what is happening, for its own sake, and for its own terms.
