In the spring of Junior year in high school, my friend Doug died. We weren’t close friends, but in a graduating class of sixty-five students, losing one was enough to turn your world upside down.

Doug was part of the preppy group, and I was part of the group Doug’s friends made fun of. He wore Abercrombie & Fitch, hung out with jocks, and caught the attention of more than a few girls. I wore baggy T-shirts, befriended band geeks, and was a wallflower at school dances, lamenting, “When are they gonna play some Pearl Jam?”

We weren’t that much alike, Doug and I, but we’d known each other for nearly eight years, which was long enough for me to…

A few weeks ago, I caught up with an old friend. For an hour, we talked on the phone about what was happening in our lives. We do this every few months , but it had been awhile and a lot had changed. As we chatted, my friend and I both realized life after college hadn’t turned out the way we expected. And for a moment, this really depressed us — but only for…