A couple of days ago, I had the urge to flip through Dave’s old yearbooks. I picked out a few of the pictures to include in this post. Dave and I went to the same school when we moved to NYC in the 1997 (from Switzerland). Dave started the 5th grade, and I started high school. I think Dave had an easier adjustment than me, since I’d had a pretty hard time being bullied in middle school. I remember that when we first moved, I was so scared of everyone that Dave and I would eat lunch together, sitting on the 8th floor of our school, by some lockers. (Of course, I’d convinced myself that I was having lunch with him for HIS sake, since I was worried about him starting out in a new school.) This went on for a couple of weeks until Dave was ready to hang out with his classmates, and so left me no choice but to get out there too. My fears ended up being completely unfounded and my years in St. Ann’s were amazing, but I’ll never forget how much I relied on him those first few weeks at a new school.
In fact, that’s pretty much the story of Dave’s and my relationship: we were each other’s support. 100%. Every. Day. Before moving to NYC, we moved from one country to the next every 2-4 years, so the only constant other than our parents was each other (Boris stayed in Germany to finish school when we moved to Switzerland, so after I turned 10 and Dave turned 7, we never lived in the same place together). As we grew up, we developed different ways of thinking about a lot of things, but at the core of our relationship that never mattered: we listened to each other; we debated each other; we could call each other out on any nonsense; we helped each other no matter what the issue. We were each other’s safety net, always.
(Though I did get pretty mad that one time he read my diary and reported its contents back to my parents “because he was worried” about me, haha.)