The Color Of Nostalgia

The Color Of Nostalgia

by

Andrew Beene

I found my brothers from another mothers. It all happened back in college. I was a freshman and belonging to the most prestigious university of my country meant a lot of proving. Proving everyone that getting by everyday with strangers meant survival. And I survived. Acquaintances became friends. Friends became comrades. Comrades became brothers. Everyone looked out for each other. We had like a

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We always had this unwritten rule to protect each other. Like an

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, Angelico, Nazaro, and I knew how to run when it was necessary, to fight when it was secured, and to stand still when it was a stalemate.

In the middle of everything, there were three bottles of beer for the good times and the bad times. We were tight. It s as if a

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manual was encoded in our consciousness.

A clich as it may seem, change is the only constant thing. Our sophomore moments came and it shook the very foundation of our friendship. I got hooked with a girl whom really turned my world upside down. And it stayed like that for nearly two years.

Angelico got stuck with religiously studying. Nazaro did the same but he had to work outside the university to sustain his life. I pestered their situations. While they were sticking to the main reason why we were there in the first place, I kept disturbing their lives by insisting booze and unnecessary fun on a weekly basis.

Angelico nagged me to stop whatever I was doing. Nazaro was not there to tell me to wake up. I never listened. Angelico did not leave me, I left him. I swam to the sea of immature stupidity and female temptation. It was not the girl s fault. It was mine all along. The result was never close to satisfactory.

I flunked three subjects. I found automatic enemies. I got involved with disgusting issues. As for Angelico, he graduate Cum Laude. Nazaro got delayed for a year because he got more legitimate money outside the school. I was left with nothing but repentance. Truly, you can t and won t be sorry before your realization of a mistake.

A semester after Nazaro left for the professional world, it was my time to graduate. They accomplished so many things well ahead of me like a Secor Alberta agency, and I was admiring them but feeling sorry for the lost friendship.

Three years passed and no news from any of the two. I arose from my dead self and refused to be a failure. I got a job that compensates what I limitedly know. I am okay now. How I wish I m with my two long lost friends whom I swore allegiance with, together with security measures much like safety services Vancouver team offer their clients.

Last night, I was surprised. Angelico sent me a text message. He told me, he and Nazaro were in town. I just couldn t believe it. I immediately pulled up my battered body fresh from the gym and went to their location.

And they were there. Angelico and Nazaro were smiling as I was approaching them. As corny as it can be, I thought they were my brothers awaiting their prodigal bro. We embraced and we heard some girls saying something sexist against us so we immediately let go and shook hands. Angelico handed me my pre-empt cold bottle of beer. Just like the old times.

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