More than five years ago I finished college and I quoted Rent (Early! A fact I fixated on for a long time. Look at me! I can finish college early! I’m smart! No I’m not compensating for insecurity AT ALL) Then, 2004 was amazing to me. My year in review sums that up quite well. Breaking up with the Ex (who I’d been with for more than 4 years) hooking up/dating HWSNBN, that awful summer, finding “inner fucking peace”…it was pretty amazing, back then. So when the year ended, it seemed logical to ask “How DO you measure, a year in the life?”

(For the record, I did not like Rent, at all. I remember when it was super popular, and I didn’t see it until later in its run, but HATED)

This year, objectively, the changes have not been as obvious. I am in the same job I was a year ago. I live in the same place (…still back at my parents house). I haven’t fallen in love or even had so much as a date. Much of the time, I’m bored. Suburbia drains the life out of me.

But then other times, like last Thursday night, I feel that there is no other place I could be, and no other way I could have gotten here than exactly this way.

Brent, Jon, Joe, and I went out to celebrate my one-year. This was originally supposed to include Lisa, but she’s recovering from surgery. We took a (very bad) picture of the four of us, but I look at it, us all looking awkward and stuff, and these are my boys. A year ago, I wasn’t on speaking terms with one of them. My relationship with one of them was fairly cold and way more off than on at best. And yet, they rallied. “Why didn’t you call us?” Jon (the one with whom my relationship was fairly cold) asked. “We would have helped you.”

Jon has had the occasional coffee with me, and because I always kind of feared Jon thought I was a total flake, his encouragement means a lot. Brent was once the person I labeled my best friend. And he was. Until three years ago when I fucked it up, royally. I hurt him worse than I have ever hurt someone in my life.

But there he was last night, telling me it was good to see me getting things together, with a cryptic note that I was better than I was three years ago. He is still, in so many ways, my best friend. We are not as close as we once were. In our nearly 20 year friendship we have hugged maybe 2 dozen times. But we still finish each other’s thoughts with just a glance.

And then there’s Joe. Joe, who took me out to lunch on weekends. Joe, who has helped me write and rewrite cover letters. Joe, who one week, when I was stuck and fretting, and didn’t want to ask my parents for yet another favor, drove me to work, about an hour (round trip) out of his way. It’s funny, because late into high school, Joe and Brent became close and I was jealous. And then, like many groups of high school friends do, we had a falling out of sorts, and Joe and I barely spoke for years. But he is the one I hugged the hardest Thursday night.

They are my favorite people on the planet, and the people that know me better than anyone. This is not to discount the other awesome things and people, which in themselves deserve their own entry. But really, there are a thousand scary-relevant song lyrics reserved just for this.  (I already did that here) In my car, I unabashadly sing along with songs that talk about old friends, and home, and hope, and love.

There is an immense amount of love in my life. Even if I were to only count the three of them.