Patience is a Virtue

Let me go back about 4 hours:
I arrived at my dear friend Yass' house to pick her up as we were heading up the coast to watch the arrivals at my brother's graduation formal. I hadn't seen her since my birthday over a month ago so it seemed like a good opportunity for us to catch up. Yass and I have been friends for quite a long time, and I would label us as close. Admittedly we don't see nearly enough of each other as we should but there is a mutual understanding between us that we know we can rely on the other in times of need.
Small talk filled my little car as we dodged the peak hour traffic, consisting mainly of work, friends and life in general. Just over 2kms before our destination we passed a limo in which a fat little hand emerged belonging to my graduating brother... and with my navigational skills I lost the carpark, ending up on the other side of the waterfront therefore, we missed his actual arrival. Nevertheless Yass and I hurried to join the mingling crowd, craning our necks to see a familiar face. And the first person that I literally ran into was none other than Biolady (I don't think I have actually reported much on her but for completion she knows a lot of my darkest past - this of course makes me uneasy). She was there solely for the arrivals with her baby boy whom I had not met before tonight - and yes he is gorgeous.
So we consumed a few minutes through insignificant conversation in which I felt awkward for 90 percent of, then I escaped and Yass and I mingled through the crowd. It was so surreal seeing all of these people that I had hardly spared a thought for over the 2 years since I had graduated myself, yet when I found their faces, I felt as if no time had passed at all.
There were of course individuals who were frequent visitors in my mind. Yass and I were summonsed by the Head of Middle School (referred to by students as the 'Short Scary One') and indulged in a heartfelt conversation that I never thought we would again share. Her daughter was in our group and whilst at school we were often found at her house - she was the cool mum who hosted the parties (and by parties I mean a whole heap of teenagers swimming in their clothes at midnight and burning random things over tea candles). We talked about the good old days and she admitted how much she missed us all, and let it slip that we were her favourite grade ever seen by the school. I relished in the thought of being someone's favourite even if it's not as an individual. And I realised how much I had missed her.
And the evening would not have been complete without a brief encounter with the School Chaplain. He looked genuinely pleased to see me and I finally had the opportunity to share the label I referred to him as - Dumbledore. Just because no matter what, he made everything ok.
Afterwards, Yass and I ventured back into the world in search for a meal. Ending up at my dad's favourite Italian restaurant, conversation continued.
Yass revealed how sad she felt after seeing everyone from our school days. She said that she missed seeing her friends everyday, how the teachers genuinely cared about you and how she wished she could go back. I must admit, this confession did take me my surprise because I know Yass well enough to say that she does not readily expose the emotive side of her spirit. Much to her surprise however, I agreed. I had thought it for 2 years and I was finally pleased to hear someone else agree - it threw my fears of not being able to grow up out the window, because if anyone had grown since our graduation, it was the girl sitting opposite me.
Turning then to tales of university and basically how it sucks in comparison, Yass began to speak as though only to her own mind, and not me. She truthfully confessed her hatred for tertiary studies and revealed the anxiety it made her feel. She hates her classes, her course, the students; the whole kit and caboodle. Well, I didn't know what to say - and to tell you the truth I don't even remember. All I know is that I told her it was ok. Uni does not shape a person or even define their future, and we're only 20 years old. We are too young to know where our lives will be in another 20 years so how can we choose a path to go down now to get there?
Not only was that what she thinks she needed to hear, but I think it's what I needed too. Don't get me wrong, I think I'm steering in the right direction, but if that damn fog blinds me I need to know that it's ok to pull over - and I just gave myself permission.