In January, we spent long afternoons on a cold ski bus, eating packaged lunches and forgetting skis at seemingly far-away mountains in Massachusetts.

In February, we developed “senoritis” and presented to the faculty panel and finally finished our last winter.

In March, we smiled and cried when we learned of our futures, and we realized that our time left here, together, was fleeting. 

In April, you and I became closer friends, talking on the brick pathway we used to rule, chilled to the bone after practice on a Mandl bus curling through the roads of Connecticut, trading insults and remarks in English class. 

In May, you hugged me goodbye under a street light on a warm night, we all jumped into the lake hand in hand one last time, and we lay on each other’s legs while May flies swarmed around us and face paint was distributed on a sunny Saturday we called Track and Field Day. 

In June, bloodshot eyes and too-fast hugs marked the canvas of a blue sky, green grass, white tent as we bid our goodbyes at the peak of our existences, which were all jumbled up together. 

In July, I dove backwards in clear, cold Maine water and swam for miles, gaining a deep tan and strong muscles, hiding my depression, my best-kept secret. 

In August, we sang together for the last time by a roaring campfire, crying and enveloping each other in tired hugs and stuffed car mail in hands that waved goodbye. 

In September, we met in a carpeted hallway by an elevator shaft back when you barely spoke English, and in your usual fashion you hugged me tightly, “Hello!” 

In October, we met for a reunion brunch at our old favorite spot, and you all looked different but I felt the same on the inside: soccer playing, easy laughing, boy crazy, sweater-wearing me. 

In November, we talked and laughed in a sunlit art classroom overlooking a grey ocean and I formed fast friends over too-early breakfasts and exhausted pasta dinners in a noisy, crowded, wooden dining hall.

In December, we sipped our iced coffees as we walked the narrow streets, reminiscing with smiles on our faces: though we’d only known each other a short time, in truth it felt like forever.