Standing in the quad, he looked around with eyes that silently remembered the years that had passed. Hidden deep within those eyes were more years of experience than his face belied. The school was similar, but yet different than he had remembered. But that would have been obvious since it had been quite some time since he stepped foot into a place where he spent a significant portion of his life.

He had traversed these halls as a student, an athlete and as a coach. There were good times and then there were bad times. What made those years a memorable part of him were all the bits and pieces in between. The sports, the games, the camaraderie and the friendships that helped influence his thoughts and actions. With a slight gust of wind, these memories came drifting forward in time, engulfing him in visual canvas pieces of his past.

In recalling these memories and people of years past, he remembered an acquaintance. A friend of sorts. A guy that had no tangible connection to him in any way. Someone completely and utterly different from the people he normally associated with in school. But for some reason, they had a friendship, even though they seem to be on the opposite sides of the spectrum. It wasn’t a very visible friendship, filled with name calling, taunting and the typical high school belittling of others.

It was an interesting friendship to say the least. It started out based on assumptions each had for the other, and it grew over time into something tolerable and of mutual respect. It wasn’t a close friendship, rife with competition, taunting and often times openly expressed dislike for each other. It was like a strategic war game that was fought on the battlefield of the school grounds. How their unsteady friendship survived, he really didn’t know, but he’d leave that kind of analysis to the psychologists.

He wasn’t even sure they could even call it a friendship.

The respect and tolerance that he had learned from this acquaintance-like friend had changed him, but he wouldn’t come to that understanding until he had passed into academic history. The things that happened during those carefree days of adolescent academia were forever embedded into his personality. He had actually become a better person without realizing it. Some of those changes were a direct result of his interactions between this particular friend and himself.

They had grown up and gone their separate ways. Thinking about it now, those two years of a cautious and largely veiled friendship were special to him. It was something different than what he was used to. It was something that was taken for granted. Now that they had moved on, sometimes he wished that it was one of those friendships that had held strong.

Crossing the parking lot, he headed toward the edge of the campus where he was parked. Opening the door and settling himself into the car, a thought crossed his mind. “Sometimes, you don’t even realize that you’ve even learned anything from the people that have passed through your life, until too much time has passed to thank them.”

He silently thanked his now absent friend for the opportunity to get to know him and drove away.

A crisp gust of wind bit into my face, reddening my cheeks and reminding me that winter had suddenly come upon us. Tugging my jacket a bit tighter around me, I took the stairs two at a time, then numbingly fumbled through the front door. With the slight chatter of teeth, I stomped my feet and waited for my eyes to adjust to the lightless space inside. Kicking off my shoes, I made my way through the emptiness to the waiting hum of machines and sat down.

Contemplating the darkness, I flipped the monitor on and checked my email, absently wishing that there was someone else here to turn the lights on for; someone who would warm the house, turn on the stove, and fill the bed beside me. Someone who could pepper the walls with noise, their voice echoing off the walls and ceiling, and through the vacant rooms of my heart.

There was a time in my life when I bought into a needful things philosophy, finding ways to cover these floors with furniture and possessions, hiding the grainy lines of age and experience. They have all been beautiful pieces, each one crafted with patience and tempered with fire, then placed with purpose; their significance understood by no one but me. However, for all my vaunted efforts, they would never be enough to fill these spaces–as they sat there empty, hollow and cold.

Surrounding myself with people had been my only shelter from the constant solitude. The oft-scattered clatter of shoes, and the whispers of the multitudes kept me company as they passed through these halls, but they never lingered long enough to leave any impressions in the hardwood floors. Although they were many, they came and went like drifting phantoms in the night, disappearing at daylight, leaving me emptier than ever before.

I could have easily grown used to you being here–listening for your light padding footsteps as you made your way through the halls. I could have easily loved the way your lilting voice and joyous laughter decorated the house, in ways that no piano, or flute, or tinkle of bells ever could. The dreams of growing used to your warming giggles floated there, just out of reach. They often surfaced during those sunny days spent skipping work, just to watch the sunrise from the shore. I could have really grown used to you, my devilish angel; a kindred spirit I could stay up all night with, pondering the wonders of the world.

Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted? To find in someone the right mix of challenge and compromise, a person you would want to win over? Someone who could care enough about you to envelope you in a blanket of security, but gave you the strength to unfurl your wings and watch you soar? Isn’t this what you always wanted–to have someone love you more than you loved yourself?

There are times where I miss you dearly, not knowing what you’re doing or where you are. But I can see you so clearly in those moments where I’m not even sure if my mind is coming or going. You laying there, curled up on the bed, encapsulated in a silk shell, feet tucked under you, snuggling away the winter in front of the tv. You were the one for me; with your bright eyes shining, and smile always inviting, swallowing me up whole.

Staring out at the blustering winds, I can’t help but imagine you being here. Turning away from the windows and gazing into the empty darkness, I know now that I can’t see you anywhere. Those memories of you are spiked with warmth and joy, permeating the very corners of my soul, but then the empty chill floods these caverns and reminds me that you aren’t here.

As summer turned to fall, and fall turned to winter, winter will surely turn to spring. I wait with bated breath as a shell of a man waiting for new beginnings. So as the old year passes, I wrap myself in memories of days of future past, embraces long gone, and sensations almost entirely forgotten–ones that didn’t last.

He walked the halls in his comfortable bubble of silence. A light summer breeze ruffled his hair and followed every his step as his way wound through the sun sheltered halls. With each step, his shoulder bag slowly swung with its own particular rhythm. The only sounds the permeated the air were the light clicking footfalls of his shoes and the slight ruffling of his shirt as it rubbed against itself.

It had been over a half dozen years since he had been back to these halls of learning. The halls reminded him of a period of time when he would learn the most about life and the world that existed outside of academia. The successes and failures that he experienced were part of the unspoken rules that governed the real world. Those kinds of realizations just didn’t occur to him at the time, but he remembered their lessons very well.

Impulsive decisions and inexperience were what guided him through those turbulent years. Trial and error were his trademarks during those times of struggle and tribulation. He might not have grown up in the ghetto, but adversity comes in many forms and he was glad to have survived. Some people weren’t so lucky. Many of those decisions were tempered with logic and intelligence, but he was young and mistakes were expected. With the passing of each event or incident, he learned a little bit more and corrected himself. Young were his years, but he never used that excuse for the things he had experienced–both tragic and joyful alike. Now with the passage of time, they had left their palpable mark upon his darkened soul.

He still had a youthful look, but there was much wisdom and maturity set deep into his eyes and stance. Over time, that youthfulness and inexperience transformed into something greater. It had turned him into an insightful and collected adult that crossed the school campus alone that day. Looking around with eyes that weren’t quite old, but nor were they young any longer, he noticed how much things had changed. Lots of changes happened in the years that had come and gone. He could barely recognize the scenery that lay before him.

Now there were new buildings, a new administrative staff and like always, a new student body that occupied the halls in which he once stood. As the years swiftly flew by, there were times that he could almost forget what had happened all those years ago but a part of him that never wanted to forget. He never wanted to forget some of those wonderful days, or the horrible days that followed.

Bending down near a patch of dead, dry grass, he placed a freshly cut purple orchid at the spot where that tragic incident happened so long ago. Standing up, he bowed his head for a long moment of silence, recalling those days with vivid clarity. Taking one last look at the flower laying at his feet, he turned around and walked away. The wind had picked up, whipping through his hair, telling him to look back but he didn’t. What had transpired was something that most people would have tried to forget. He never did.

He still felt responsible for the ill-fated events that lead up to that unfortunate day, although some had said that there was nothing he could do. Those words that tried to absolved him of guilt were a small measure of comfort compared to the hollow hole in his heart that he had been carrying ever since. His past was his past and he would never forget it, or those who had walked with him during those days. But to dwell on it would invite unwanted self-destruction. It was simply not his way.

He didn’t look back as he strode into the future, never forgetting the ones that came before him, or the lessons he learned from them as well. Getting into the car, he took one last look at those cream colored walls that were so much a part of his adolescence and drove away.

That last year of middle school started with a sharp clanging of the brass alarm bells, which had been my constant chaperones during the previous 2 years. But this time that familiar ring was a little bit duller and there was a pervasive bittersweet undertone that seemed to signify the beginning of an end of an era.

To everyone else’s ears, that sound indicated the end of a school day, but to me those bells told a different story. It was a tale of outward growth and the methodic end of my period as a child. I had just turned 13; I was now a teenager.

Soo-Min was gone but we still kept in touch. It was hard on both of us since we were more than 200 miles apart. The hardest part about it all was how I felt about this girl. Granted, we were barely into our teen years and had very little understanding about what love was all about, but we just knew how we felt for each other. I had only known her a little over a year, but there was such a strong emotional connection that I had never known before.

Our exchanges became less frequent as time rolled along. The schedules that bound our hands were increasing the gap that we knew was already there. We were both growing in many different ways and there was nothing we could do to change that fact. We just had to accept and understand that this was how life was meant to be.

We talked and wrote whenever we could, but it seemed strained. Neither of us had the financial means to sustain a relationship and we both knew it. I remember the gifts that I would get in the mail, gifts that she made, along with pictures whenever she took new ones, as if she was afraid that I’d forget her face.

I knew in my heart of hearts that I’d never be able to forget her and you know what?

I never have.

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10.

As the rain fell out of the sky, I sat and tinkered with the brand new computer components splayed before me. Working at a steady pace, I was supposed to be building a new machine for a client. Wrapped up in the comfort of something familiar, yet new; I almost failed to notice the phone on the ground next to me, silently humming with the vibrations of an incoming call. Jarring me from my focused concentration, I looked at it without even registering the fact that someone was trying to reach me. Oh yeah, that’s what phones are for right?

Wiping my hand against my jeans, I picked up the still vibrating phone and flipped it open with a slight flick of the my thumb and wrist. It was a well practiced motion that was used so often that it barely registered in my senses. Not even with a glance at the caller ID, I shouldered the phone and looked back down into the computer case, totally engrossed in the work at hand.

“Hello?”

“Hey man, long time no talk…how’re you doing?”

The voice that came through the receiver from the other side, sent my mind drifting backward through time.

He seemed a bit out of place. Looking around with curious eyes and a small slip of paper in his hand, he gazed up at the glossy white numbers that were painted onto each door that lined the hallway. I had seen him around before. He played football and we had practiced together as teammates but I barely knew who he was. I went to say hi and thought that I’d see if he needed any help finding what he was looking for.

That one decision I made that fateful day was how it all started.

It has been almost a year now since he was last near enough in distance to go hang out with. In the time that we’ve known each other, we’ve gone through a great many things. Some of these situations have been good, some have been bad and some situations were so ridiculously funny that it would be a lie to say that I didn’t hurt myself laughing. But none of these events in my life would have felt the same if I hadn’t known him.

The ropes that tie our friendship together has crossed a great many borders and spanned distances that some people have a hard time understanding. The boundaries and barriers that we have crossed are difficult for people to overcome as we all grow up, mature and grow apart. The three and a half years that I spent on the east coast didn’t diminish the strength of our connection. It only tested the bonds that held us together. Our personalities clash, and our backgrounds are so different that if you were to look at us, you’d see night and day. Guess which one I am?

We’ve seen each other at our worst moments and been there for each other when we triumphed over our own personal obstacles. When my family fell apart he was around to keep me sane. When his family fell apart some years later, I was there as well. Our brotherhood has lasted through girlfriends, injuries and even some major mistakes that cost us dearly. To see another person at his/her lowest point and still be there is something truly special. I will always remember the crazy things that we did. All the times where we helped cover up for each other’s mistakes and always watched the other guy’s back in a fight. The memories that were created when we were together, could span several lifetimes.

A dozen years later, as we talk over a distance of 2800+ miles that separates the two of us, its as if nothing has changed. We pick up where we left off and continue on in our steadfast friendship with each other. He bought a house and now lives in Florida with his girlfriend, while I still live in the Bay Area, the area that we grew up in. The time and distance that sits between us only confirms that the moors that attach us are strong enough to withstand anything.

The various events in our lives not only makes us the best of friends, but it makes us family. That’s what we are. We’re family.

It had been years. Every single summer for the past half-dozen years, he had been coming to this place. This tranquil place, set deep into the forested foothills of the Sierra Nevada. The place was a pond, not big enough to be called a lake, but it held still water that was continually fed by the tributaries branching off of the Yuba River nearby.

The area was a peaceful spot, still untouched by the age of technology and steel. Fields of wild grass and green pastures still covered the landscape everywhere you looked. The trees that towered overhead, had grown tall without any additional help from the world of man. Here, nature still remained vibrant and strong.

It was early morning. The sun had just peeked above the hills, casting a warm, orange glow over the body of water he now faced. Clouds of early morning steam rose from the calm still waters, evaporating like ghosts chased away by the morning sunlight. The fish and frogs had already taken their leave, scrambling deeper into the darker areas that surrounded the pond.

He stood there with the sun upon his bare back, gazing at the outline that his shadow formed on the surface of the pond. Stretching his arms up into the sky, he took a deep cleansing breath and dove into the calm, cool waters below. As soon as his whole body had submerged, he opened up his eyes to see a small fish hurriedly flash away into the deeper, murkier depths of the pond. Looking around, he noticed the water’s slightly green hue caused by the algae that hung there, suspended in the water.

Cupping his hands, he gave a long, strong pull as he stayed under the surface and let the momentum carry him farther from the small pier he had dove from. The water parted before his streamlined form, barely causing a ripple on the surface. He was totally content in his solitude for the time being, although his oxygen supply would run out soon enough.

Another long pull, and the accompanying kick from his legs propelled him further from shore and closer to the center of the pond. He wondered how long he could last, holding his breath and depriving himself of air. As a child, he was able to hold his breath for over 3 minutes. By now he was able to surpass the 4 minute mark, but that was with little exertion. He wondered how he would do now.

Bending at the waist, he dove deeper still. Flipping onto his back he marveled at the sunlight filtering through the water, like a cascade of mirror pieces falling from above. He recall the long, lazy days where he’d hide underwater and sneak up upon his unsuspecting friends that had come along on these trips. Those were the days of unbridled joy and carefree happiness. When life was slow and much easier to understand.

He missed those days, lounging in the sun. Days where the only thing they had to think about was what they were going to eat for lunch and dinner. All the time in between was spent frolicking in the outdoors and simply enjoying what life had to offer.

Feeling a slight tightness in his chest, he knew time had begun to run out. Things weren’t so simple anymore. Turning toward the surface, he kicked once and floated slowly toward the light. His face broke the surface and he slowly pulled for the other side.

Swimming slowly along, he wondered if he would ever be able to hold his breath that long ever again.

He slid into bed, after a long day that wore him down from the inside out. As he pulled the covers over his head, her smell rose from the comforter to greet him. It enveloped his body in a warm, familiar embrace, penetrating his nasal passages and awakening the old memories. The smell of freshly laundered linens mixed in with a touch of sweet vanilla, reminded him that he missed having her next to him as he slept.

Those thoughts dug themselves out of the cold ground of his entrenched soul. He remembered her softness, her kindness and her affections. The feel of her smooth silky skin against his back—as her arms encircled his waist and shoulders in a loving cradle—was something that he missed very much. They seemed to be able to ward off and drain away the negative energies that would do him harm.

Often at night, as he stayed up burning the midnight oil, he could still discern her essence roaming the room. The barely perceptible and delightful smell would linger in the air, comforting him as well as reminding him of a love that once was. As long as he remembered that in life, all things are possible, he would continue to live each day in the best way he knew how.

Laying there for a time—he found himself awash in the pool of vivid memories of years passed. He sat up and walked outside. The slight chill and morning dew met him with a smile, promising that the air would be crisp and the day beautiful. Looking east down the street, he knew that she wouldn’t be coming, but wanted to look upon the dawn of a new day. Staring at the rising sun, he would wait for the time to come when she would once again walk into his life.

Such was the passage of love. Timeless.