I confidently walked into the second grade classroom in Little Rock, Arkansas that radiated new possibilities. In the back of the room, the class lima bean plants were in little plastic cups. A large window behind them allowed sunlight to stream in. My hair was wild, and I had a goofy smile. I was ready for change. I confidently walked into the second grade classroom in Little Rock, Arkansas that radiated new possibilities. In the back of the room, the class lima bean plants were in little plastic cups. A large window behind them allowed sunlight to stream in. My hair was wild, and I had a goofy smile. I was ready for a change.
My all too eager classmates swarmed me when my teacher explained that I was a new student who had just moved from Texas. I took my seat next to a Nepali girl named Nistha, who wore dorky glasses and loved pink. I could tell she was smarter than everyone in the room just by looking at her. She read every book she could get her hands on. In fact, she had a race with another girl to see who could read the entire Harry Potter series faster. Needless to say, Nistha won as she always does.
Little did we know that sitting by each other that first day in class would leave a profound impact on both of our lives.
We immediately granted each other best friend status. After elementary school, she was there for me through all of my middle school phases, awkward boy drama and general craziness. Everything was great — until the middle of my freshman year. My parents sat me down in our kitchen and told me we were moving back to Texas.
A sense of fear rippled through my body as I realized that my life as I knew it was about to completely change. The fear of the unknown is what scared me the most.
Nistha was the first person I told about the move. In a quiet voice, all she said was “what?” I think she was just as shocked as I was. For awhile I had known that moving again was a possibility, but after living in the same place for seven years, I grew attached and comfortable. I had become close friends with the same people since I was young because I went to a private prep school with extremely small classes.
• • •
On my first day at Marcus, I hesitantly walked into my freshman English class that seemed to amplify my anxiousness. Paperback copies of Animal Farm were in small stacks on each table. I had put effort into my hair, and I didn’t smile. I wasn’t ready for change.
During my first passing period, I remember having the stark realization that I was going to be trampled to death. The unfamiliar people everywhere completely overwhelmed me in ways I didn’t know were possible.
After I got home from my first day, I called Nistha and cried. She reassured me of my self worth and told me it would just take time for me to be happy again. I missed the security of my old school and old friends so much that my chest felt heavy, and my hands trembled. At the time, I was terrified of gradually losing her to the mileage between us and then ending up truly alone. Now, I know that even though we live separate lives, we’ll always be close.
I eventually began pushing myself to break my shyness bubble. It was incredibly difficult at first, but I eventually learned to be relatively outgoing.
Now, Nistha and I are in really good places. We still call almost every day, and she’s still the first person I tell when something big happens, like when I had my first wreck and when I almost moved again. She’s most likely going to an Ivy League school, and I’m planning to follow my dream of going to University of Florida. I’ve made amazing friends in Texas, and I’m truly happy. We alternate visits between Arkansas and Texas. When we do finally see each other, it’s like absolutely nothing has changed since we keep each other so up to date on our lives.
Living far away from someone you’re close to is difficult and sometimes emotionally demanding. But, if you truly have a deep bond with someone, distance shouldn’t keep you apart because true friendship knows no boundaries.
