I changed my summer Spanish classes to pass/no pass. This meant that when I failed, it wouldn't affect my GPA. I thought I was a genius, until I got a text from my coach: "I called your Spanish teacher today and she didn't know who you were."

I ran stadium stairs every morning for a month. I hated every second of it. I hated Spanish classes. I hated school. I pushed everyone and everything away from me.

But amongst all my chaos, self-sabotage and ego, I had a friend who stuck by me. Austin Sleight.

He was a Nebraska boy with a heart of gold. Always first to offer a ride, to help rebound or to lend an ear and listen to me ramble about my mishaps and woes. We lived together my junior year. We'd sit on the couch playing 2K and League of Legends with the Joe Rogan podcast running in the background. We cooked chocolate chip pancakes and looked after my dog Chuck together.

He was like a brother to me. My best friend.

But I wasn't as good to him as he was to me.

I'd been living in Australia for a year since I dropped out of college. Austin planned an epic trip to come stay with me. 40 hours of travel. He crashed at my place. We went to the Cleland Wildlife Park, running around like kids feeding the kangaroos, holding the koalas, being scared of the emus. We laughed, we went out, we played hoops, we caught up.

But because of me, that is where the friendship ended.

This week was my 30th birthday. And as I sat there reflecting on the last 10 years, I thought of all the relationships, and people I have loved and lost.

Distance creates distance.

I didn't text as much as I should have. I didn't answer calls. slowly, the phone went silent. Austin's dad sent me the yearly birthday message. I don't think I've ever sent him or Austin one.

Some nights in my dreams, I sit at a Nebraska Huskers game next to Austin, cheering on the team. I've made the trip. We've reconnected. But my actions and my reality don't match that dream.

Only a year ago, Austin reached out again. A wedding invitation. I couldn't make it. The basketball schedule didn't allow it. I didn’t even reply to him giving him a reason I couldn’t go. The phone was heavy, and I put it away for a day or two, telling myself I was removing myself from technology for health reasons. But really it was because I was scared to face an old friend. I was embarrassed that yet again I was the one not answering the call.

On my birthday it wasn't my career I thought about. It was Austin. It was the shame of leaving so many people behind. The not replying. The long days in the gym over visiting family.

Luckily, as I finished journaling, I looked to the right and saw Beth sitting on the floor playing with Oaklynn. Oaky, as we call him. He gave me an open mouth gummy smile, his two bottom teeth reflecting the lamp light.

I'm so grateful that the last 10 years led me to that moment right there.

I know what I want the next decade to look like. I want camp fires with friends. Long hugs with loved ones. Staring contests with Oaky. Little rhyming and humming games with Beth.

And man oh man, whether it's a dinner or a play in the park with our kids, I look forward to when my path crosses with the old friends I haven’t seen in a while.

But in the mean time, I sent Austin a message this week. I've talked to his dad. It's a start.