Sunday, March 04, 2012

Game One

It's always SO.MUCH.FUN. to be in a place where so many people from your life suddenly show up all at once. Tournament games are like that, especially if they're in a pretty central location, say, Asheville.

Because, you know, once I walk into the Civic Center (I really don't want to call it the "U.S. Cellular Center," just like I don't want to call Bobcats Arena "Time Warner Cable Arena." Ugh, corporate-ness.) with my father and my boyfriend and his parents, my eyes seek and search and never take long to find someone I can call out to.

Without thinking about it, late last month I stumbled into the sixth year of knowing Davidson as Davidson, and not simply "place where I could potentially go to college (if I like it enough)." My first visit was in late February of my senior year of high school, and it felt like things started to fall together as soon as we drove up Griffith Street. I would love to see my face and my eyes at that moment, remember exactly what it felt like, feeling like this could work, and yet not knowing so many things.

What I know now is that it seems far beyond six years that I've known and loved this place, but I guess that's just a testament to what can be built by a community that is constructed deeply in one location and then somehow is able to move fluidly with you, still retaining that depth, wherever you go.

Anyway. Back to the Civic Center.

I saw friends and acquaintances from every generation. I saw my two dearest professors, who would of course be there. I could wave and hug at every turn. I hadn't seen Ann in nearly two years, and we stood up and waved from across the arena, then found each other at halftime.

And of course, the more our team did, the louder our cheers grew. Joining in that familial chaos never gets old, and somehow feels especially fresh this year.

"I love your face!" Ann called after the victory, as we parted on the bustling Asheville street.

And I love your face back. And yours, and yours, and yours...

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