We called ourselves “The Octos.”

It was July 2009, and the eight of us were crammed into a bathroom at a crowded San Francisco restaurant. We held temporary tattoos and wet paper towels against our hands.

“Three, two, one … done!”

Giggling, we peeled back the pieces of paper and held out our arms. There, on eight hands, were eight little blue octopuses. I don’t remember who said it, but at that point, it was decided: We would be The Octos. Best friends. Accountability partners. Sisters in Christ. Fast-forward to March 2013. The Octos are now scattered across several states: two of us are here at the University, but the rest are miles away, in Alabama navigating heartbreak and Southern sorority life, in Colorado snowboarding on the weekends, in Florida learning how to heal.

The first column of my semester was devoted to exploring intentionality in friendships. What I’ve discovered since leaving for college last fall is how crucial it is to set aside time for old friends as well. They know me the way a new friend can’t: my family, my house, my past mistakes and struggle, my sense of (slightly) crude humor and my deepest passions.

I’m calling these relationships long-distance friendships. And I’m also abashedly admitting that I suck at these now.

I was home last semester — it’s a story that I will be sharing with you all in a five-part series, starting on Monday — and I spent much of my time pouring into my friends’ lives. I asked questions, I listened, I advised — I was there for them. And they did the same for me. Even though we weren’t physically together, we were in constant communication.

It’s not like that anymore. I’m busier, rarely available for lengthy phone calls or Skype sessions. Readjusting to life on campus, after being away during the fall, has completely consumed me.

These past few weeks have flown by, and I’m loving the adventure. But I also want to share in the trials and triumphs of my best (old) friends. 

We all know that long-distance romances are hard, but did anyone tell us it would be this difficult to invest in our long-distance friendships?

Maybe I’m just the last one to find out. Despite the distance, there is beauty in the oldest — the best — friendships. To those people, we bring home new experiences and new life lessons. There is something magical about that process, something that makes old relationships even stronger. 

For most college students, we have no idea what will happen when we leave campus, but we do know we want to hold on to our friends dearly. Soon, our newer, collegiate relationships will turn into old friends. We will be sprinkled across the globe, chasing dreams and making plans.

This, I’m learning, is how life works. We will always be acquiring new friendships — some are going to last just for a short season of life, while others are perennial.

A few days ago, I was talking to one of the Octos over Facebook Chat.

“I have completely failed at keeping up with your life,” I typed. “And I feel so awful for it.”

She gently reminded me of the roots of our friendship. It is strong enough to stay alive through the busy weeks and the slow weeks. No matter what happens during the semester, we come back home and reunite and everything is the same. We still love each other fiercely, the way only best friends can. And in this current, hectic season of life, that is one truth I can surely hold on to.