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I was sitting with my friend Jessica as I watched Leah tell her tale. Jess and I met the second week of school when she approached me and asked what I was always writing during class. I told her about my journal thing, and everything just blossomed from there. To use a popular junior high term, I’d have to say that Jess and I were best friends, which was unusual ...
I met her at a party, Leah that is, not my therapist. Through my research at school, I learned that eighty per cent of all college relationships begin within twenty feet of a keg. Thus, our meeting was not a particularly novel experience. What did strike me as odd on that first night back in December of 1986, was that she was talking about her mother’s cats. In itself that wasn’t quite what I would call divergent thinking, yet on the Saturday night before exam week of our freshman year when people were traditionally talking about finals, Caribbean vacations, and Christmas wish lists, such feline subjects seemed slightly off base. Maybe that’s why I first fell for her—she would talk about anything, anywhere, no matter how out of place or time. I envied that immensely.