Each place I travel I am greeted with the same people. They change their name, their form, their hair color, eye color. I only count a sampling of the ever-growing whole, but these remain constant.

The girl who despises me by looking at me.

The friend who is only friendly every other week.

The friend without shame.

The loud and sensitive friend.

The boy who I had no idea liked me.

The boy whom I knew liked me and wished fervently he didn’t.

The one guy friend you don’t have to worry about.

The gay friend who you are not really sure of his opinion of you, but believe it’s good enough.

The older man whom you fancy.

The one boy who you have a strange connection with.

All ever the same, in each life I wander to, whether by the beach, in the trees, wherever—these truths remain.