By Madison Zhou
Editor-in-Chief
From a young age, I thought friendships were unbreakable. My friends and I spent endless afternoons drawing each other with chalk and swearing we’d always be there for one another. It felt like nothing could ever come between us—we were building something that would last forever. But when high school arrived, everything changed. We drifted into separate groups, chased different dreams and soon, our deep conversations were replaced with awkward silence or polite nods.
I didn’t know how to process this loss. Walking past people who had shaped my childhood left me with a quiet longing I couldn’t shake. When I saw one of those friends, my heart would leap, but my feet froze. What if they didn’t remember the late nights, the laughter or the promises we’d made? What if I said “hi” and only received a blank stare or a mumbled response?
I let those questions stop me until my senior year. Over winter break, I volunteered at a Tournament of Roses shift when I spotted Lyndsey–someone I hadn’t spoken to in five years. My stomach twisted and for a moment, I hesitated. Fear bubbled up inside me: What if it’s awkward? What if the connection is gone? But then, something shifted. I smiled, walked over and said, “Hi.”
To my surprise, her face lit up. We started talking and it was as though no time had passed. That moment taught me something powerful: relationships don’t disappear–they just wait for us to rediscover them. Reconnecting with friends showed me the quiet strength of hope. It’s not about wishing for things to go back to how they were; it’s about believing in what still exists, even when it feels buried–reaching out is worth the risk, even when it’s scary.
This realization makes the thought of college feel less overwhelming. Leaving behind my friends and family is intimidating, but distance doesn’t erase the connections we’ve built. Friendships don’t vanish when life takes us in different directions–they stretch and grow, like we do. As long as I’m willing to reach out, the people who matter will always be there. To me, hope is the belief that the bonds we share will endure, no matter where life takes us.