incredibly close and decades away

It's 4 o'clock in the morning. Everyone is in their pajamas and looking bleary-eyed. Nobody can remember whose stupid idea it was to throw a surprise party for Jonas on his birthday, the surprise element being the part where we dragged him out of bed in the middle of the night, stuck him under a cold shower and then presented him with cake and presents in the common room.

A good time was, however, had by all. Including Jonas (at least after the shower was over). Nobody worried about the fact that we had to be up early in the morning for bible study class. After all, we were young, history-makers in the making, and loved each other to bits.

This is one of the weirdest things in my life. To have people in your life that you have had no contact with for almost 20 years (most of them) but who were so close then that you still remember the sound of their voice. That particular look on their face when they were upset or excited. Their dreams, shared in an almost frightened but hopeful whisper, and sometimes their most shameful secrets. The comfort of their presence when you were puking your guts out in a stinking third-world toilet, and they were puking right next to you. The weak laughter you shared in your lowest moments. The fierce hugs they gave you when you asked their forgiveness for letting them down when times were rough. Their unconditional love and help when you were at the end of your rope.

This common room, in the middle of the night - and in that stinking third-world toilet - is where I learned about friendship.