Our Time in Eden: Indulging in Reworked Memories of Friends from College (2:38 AM)

The small crowd parted to reveal familiar faces I haven't seen in years.

I was attending a launch for a new comic book title, Jam, from Mango Comics, owned by a good buddy. A couple of writers and an artist were old friends from college. A few of the guests and one very special guest were also from college.

Let me introduce them: M, J, X, K, L, K.

M. An artist, now a comic book artist as well. When we were in college, she gave me an unexpected gift: a watercolor painting of me, on the beach with my dog. I had my ponytail, my favorite shirt, and a dog I never had. The most valuable art for me is the one made by someone I know. I haven't seen her since 1993, when I left college.

J. A poet. I have a photocopy of her first award-winning poem, the one about Rizal--handwritten, direct from her writing journal. She will be happily married this April. I last saw her in 1998, when she was still worried about dating.

X. Another artist, but he now calls himself, "a consultant". We launched a website together back in 1996, without ever meeting until months after. I probably saw him last in 1998 during a editorial meeting for a now-defunct literary journal.

K. A writer, now living her dream as Editor-in-Chief of a music magazine. I still listen to the tape she gave me, a copy of 10,000 Maniac's Our Time in Eden. I last saw her in the launch of Darna, also from Mango Comics.

L. A poet, but it's a big secret. In college, when her poem got published, I made her sign my copy. She wrote: "You're weird." I bump into her once in a while.

K. An artist and poet. A rare combination. Now a comic book publisher. He was best man in my wedding. I don't see him enough.

You know who you are. (Consider that a blessing.)