Best friends' Christmas − 1 December, 1991
Ben, Julia, Ross and Alicia and I were inseparable for a time. We all listened to the same music, went to the AP and shared many of the same views on life - a heightened sense of ironic humor at the basis of all life's wonder chief amongst them. We were good kids, really, and rarely got up to things our parents feared we did. There was no sex, very little drugs, no drinking, no crazy driving, no lying or stealing. We were the kinds of kids who in high school thought it was much nicer to stay indoors, watch a bad movie, write a fake song, go record shopping, read comics, and shoot the shit. Getting in trouble was so much less fun.
One Christmas the five of us were all at Ben's house listening to music when a disc changed over to something that Ben's parents had been listening to. It was Mozart's Requiem as sung by the Tallis School Choir. For 60 minutes we fell silent listening to these angels sing. We watched the fire and nobody spoke.
As the CD finished we said our goodbye, hugged and parted in the evening snow. I can't recall if we actually verbalized this or not, but in those goodbyes, our last year together as friends in high school, we seemed to be saying "I love you" as well. We did love each other. That's why hanging out with each other required little more than a song.
One Christmas the five of us were all at Ben's house listening to music when a disc changed over to something that Ben's parents had been listening to. It was Mozart's Requiem as sung by the Tallis School Choir. For 60 minutes we fell silent listening to these angels sing. We watched the fire and nobody spoke.
As the CD finished we said our goodbye, hugged and parted in the evening snow. I can't recall if we actually verbalized this or not, but in those goodbyes, our last year together as friends in high school, we seemed to be saying "I love you" as well. We did love each other. That's why hanging out with each other required little more than a song.
