we were young. 23, both of us. me, two weeks out of college, him, going into his student teaching semester that fall and then onto another year; a semester in the master's program in counseling and then a switch to getting his 5th year professional teaching certificate.
i was working as a graphic designer back then, at a small studio in downtown honolulu. we lived in a two bedroom walk up. it was a hollow-tile brick building that would take in all the heat from the day and leave us sweltering in an oven at night, especially during the summer.
rewind some eleven years earlier; we met in the 6th grade at kaahumanu elementary school. he, in his red courduroy shorts and always with a basketball in hand. me, in my dorothy hamill glasses. both of us fast friends. who knows why, but we were. years filled with swimming, shopping, bus rides and always- even from the time we were this young--long, wonderful talks.
twenty-nine years since we first met, steve was, and is, my best friend. the kind you want to strangle sometimes, because dang it, he should know better than to ever say, "i knew you'd overreact" and because, by now, he should know that the trash needs to be taken out EVERYDAY before bedtime without me having to say anything. the kind that will tell you without rolling his eyeballs that yes, for the millionth time, you really are an artist. the kind that when you tell him you feel that old depression coming on, will drag you out of the house and stop by keneke's for that teriyaki chicken plate you love, and plop you on the beach for the rest of the day because he knows it will help. the kind you know will fight for you to the death and stand in your corner when no one else is left.
we are celebrating our 18th wedding anniversary today. happy anniversary to us! love you, babe. (even though you still "forget" to throw out the trash everyday. and i won't even mention the dishes.)
