This morning a little after 10 am, I looked up at my friend Seth and said, “Wow.  This is the last time I’ll see you before you move.”  We just sort of stared at each other, mouths agap, trying to come to terms with the fact that after five years of close friendship and intertwined lives in the same city, things were about to drastically change.

I met Seth at a Unitarian potluck in Rittenhouse Square in the summer of 2002.  He was one of the first friends I made after moving to Philadelphia and we’ve stayed close through fights, relationships, break ups, church committee work (which is enough to test many a friendship) and deep growth and change.  He was the first one to come to my aid the night my relationship with Ted ended.  We’ve driven each others’ cars, picked each other up at airports, cooked together and once, in a drunken moment on New Year’s Eve, kissed each other (thankfully Cindy came along and broke that right up).

He’s heading back to the town in Western Massachusetts where he grew up, while he takes a couple of classes and possibly applies to seminary.  I know it’s the right choice for him, and that his life is going to expand in joyful and unknown ways.  But that’s not going to stop me from missing him like crazy.