“I wonder if you guys would read a story I’m writing.” I remember the awkwardness of my first words to Andrew and Kevin. They were regulars at the coffee shop where I had taken to hanging out. I had overheard their discussions of ideas well waxed with all things deep and philosophic.

Ella, in her way, had chosen their group to make friends with, so by extension I had become acquainted with them. Yet getting the courage to actually attempt that fearful task of relationship initiation – small talk, took too much caffeine and my near completion of a story about a pre-Socratic philosopher. I was so excited by the resonance of espresso and a good idea that I had to share it with someone. I paced back and forth a couple times and then, approaching them, gesticulated the awkward sentence. They agreed, but I didn’t know what to do next. I gave them the web address for the story and left it.

They were to become dear friends. I only realized how much I loved Kevin and his girlfriend, Liz the night before they left for Marquette. I talked with them late that night, long past closing, and then while I was still cleaning they came back and brought me a slice of pizza from the Atrium.

From the time I met Andrew he was already one with Amanda, a girl who worked at the coffee shop. We sometimes called them Amandrew. They too were my kind of people. Coffee culture, academic, bohemian. Tonight, I said goodbye to them. Over the past couple years they have become some of my dearest friends, more than that, they are a brother and a sister to me. Their farewell party was bittersweet. I will miss them, and I desperately hope and pray for the grace of sharing our lives again. But sweetly I also praise God that he allowed me to love them for the time I have. Even if my great desire for them is not met, it is enough that I have known people so pure and dear.

Andrew’s parting words to me were that he would email me his comments on a revision of the story I asked him to read when we met.