We were something more than girls, but less than women.

We left childhood bedrooms, familiar streets, safety nets. We woke up in strange bunk beds. With even stranger roommates sleeping nearby. We were exploring a new landscape, studying maps, making plans.

We stood at the edges of our own little, brave new worlds. But we were never alone.

We had each other.

Together, we traversed the limbo-land of college. Not quite girls, not quite women. And we were never alone.

Someone was there when we walked to class. When we studied. When we ate salads and turkey sandwiches, piled much to high with lunchmeat, in Eden’s Greens. When we ate an obscene number of baked potatoes in The Greek. Because nothing else in The Greek was edible. When we went out at night after watching ER, because of course it made perfect sense to start the evening at 10 p.m. When we came home from The Pub.

We were together. Never alone.

We went to our classes, jobs, meetings, but in between and at the end of the day, we were together. And in the days when cell phones were something you kept in the car, zipped inside a large black bag, to be used only in emergency, that’s saying something. There was no texting. Al Gore was still keeping the Internet largely to himself.

Then one day we graduated. And once again we were all in limbo, all facing a new life.

Alone.

But only in the physical sense.

In the years since the university handed us our diplomas and told us we were ready to grow up, we’ve done just that. Women now, no longer girls. Women, who have done this all together.

Together, for the big stuff and the small.

When we said I do. Or when we said I can’t anymore. When we saw two pink lines. Or when we didn’t. When the job offer came through. When the reasons for celebration were grand, and when the reason was no more than I miss you. When it took all of our strength to stand side-by-side, saying final farewells to one of our own. More than once.

In spite of ourselves, we grew up. And in spite of the growing, we stayed together.

Countless hours spent sitting on the world’s most comfortable sofa. Countless miles driven and flown. Countless face cramps from laughing until we forgot what was funny in the first place.

Thank God for those hours. Thank God for those not-quite-girls.

I’m off to spend the weekend with women who love me, in spite of myself. We’ve been friends since before anyone told us eyebrows should be waxed. And the people who knew you when two caterpillars lived on your face, well, those are good people. Enjoy your weekend. I’ll be back next week. With a laughter-induced face cramp.