To The Memory of Friends Past

There are days when the world moves so fast, it feels like we barely have time to breathe. But in the quiet moments between clocking in for work, folding laundry at midnight, or standing alone in the early hours memories rise from the dark. Some bring tears. Some bring joy.

All of them remind me of you.

I think of us often. I’m going to be a father now. Can you believe it? Of all people. I still remember how we used to laugh at the idea. We were just kids then fueled by caffeine and starlight, trading dreams like secrets, swearing we’d chase them down together. We thought we’d stay close forever. And for a while, we did.

Our laughter echoed through the hallways of our lives like a song we never thought would end. But time, as it always does, had other plans. Life pulled us in different directions. Miles piled up. Priorities shifted. We traded late-night adventures for early mornings and packed calendars. We grew older. We became caretakers of tiny lives, lives we hope will carry the same spark we once shared; even if they never meet the ones who first lit ours.

It’s strange, isn’t it? To think of people you no longer see but still carry with you. Sometimes I catch a glimpse of one of you in a stranger’s smile, or hear your voice in my head, saying exactly what I need to hear. We may never share the same roof again, but you are woven into the fabric of my life in ways that time can’t undo.

There are things I wish I’d said back then. Times I should’ve reached out and didn’t. I told myself you’d always be there, and maybe that’s the biggest lie we tell ourselves: that there’s always more time. But even in my silence, I held you close.

Over the years, I’ve found new brothers, new sisters souls who showed up when I needed them most. They’ll never replace you, but they’ve helped carry the weight. That’s the thing about found family: it finds you when your heart forgets how to ask. Still, I’d give anything for one more midnight. One more laugh.

Since then, life has taken us places we never imagined—some breathtaking, some heartbreaking. I know you’ve had your own mountains to climb, just as I’ve had mine. And while some of the dreams we once held slipped away quietly, they gave rise to new ones—quieter, perhaps, but no less meaningful. That’s the beauty of growing up. The plans may have changed, but the people we were when we made them still live inside me.

I carry that spark forward now, not just for myself, but for the little hands I’ll soon hold, and for the stories I’ll pass on. Because what we had wasn’t just a moment. It was the beginning of a legacy. And there are still so many pages left to write.

So, wherever life has taken you, know this: you’re still with me. In the lessons I teach. In the love I give. In the quiet courage I try to live each day. I carry the fire we once lit together. And as I step into this next chapter, I feel ready not because I have all the answers, but because of what we built back then.

The best parts of us live on—in the stories we tell our children, in the values we pass down, and in the dreams we still dare to dream.

Here’s to new beginnings. To old friendships. And to the beautiful, unknown road ahead.

With love always,

One of us.