Ramen

Seeing old friends

Before my eyes I have aged into the category where I have ‘old friends’

And get socks for Christmas

And I watched slowly as everyday on the trampoline after school deteriorated into FaceTime calls between classes and two time zones

But once a year we break our texting silence

And burry ourselves into a cracked red leather booth in the dimmer corner of a cheap Japanese food restaurant

That they know so intimately about my hardwiring they’re never thrown off by a software update

In a way I feel closer when we’re farther because for that one night at a sushi bar we pour our souls out

Everything we’ve been keeping in to tell someone that is equally intimately understanding of us and somewhat a stranger

About our parents and our relationships our new apartments and jobs and what we’re going to do in the summer

The waiters give us kind smiles,

Some of them are new faces but we recognize the one we left a 20$ with last time because despite the degrees and the sciences we can’t figure out math

I’ve become comfortable quicker than most people with the understanding that not everyone is forever in my life

And sometimes it’s easier to let go without the claw marks

draw myself back,

issue a merry Christmas or a happy birthday but treat them like a relative you don’t see and don’t plan on seeing very much

So the old friends that always show up to laugh in hushed tones across the table from you at a dimly lit sushi restaurant are my favorite