nostalgia.

It feels like just yesterday that I was waiting eagerly for the envelope to come. Within it held the promise of all that was to come after. I remember opening the envelope, seeing the name and phone number contained within it, and wanting to call it immediately.

I was living in, and working out of my parents basement at the time and so the next day, in between whatever it was I was doing that passed for work, I called the number. A couple of missed connections because the calls were lost in translation, I finally got to speak to the name corresponding to the number on the paper. We talked for a few hours, learned what we each had done over the past four years, what we hoped to do in the next four, and talked of the possibilities in the unknown that was to come.

In two days, I’ll fly back to Jersey to be a groomsman in his wedding. After four years of being roommates. After one of us became a doctor, one of us moved to Ohio to become a Brand Manager, and both of us still can’t believe we met as randomly matched college roommates eight years ago.

It’s amazing how much certain things matter—your best friend getting married is one of those things.
Lots of love for what’s ahead, Manny!