A friend of mine posted a story about someone he was once very close to.
See it here: In Xanadu.
I hear a lot of people say they have someone from their past that they often wonder about.
I've traveled pretty far. South and North again. I've met and lost a lot of people in 47 moves. People that I haven't been able to find. Maybe they don't want found.
I became a bit of an investigator and found a dozen or so old friends. They were all surprised to hear from me. And once I heard from someone (an x) who surprised me. Even though I can carry on a conversation as well as anyone, when I thought about calling some of them again, I didn't know what we'd talk about. It was as if the word well had run dry.
See it here: In Xanadu.
I hear a lot of people say they have someone from their past that they often wonder about.
I've traveled pretty far. South and North again. I've met and lost a lot of people in 47 moves. People that I haven't been able to find. Maybe they don't want found.
I became a bit of an investigator and found a dozen or so old friends. They were all surprised to hear from me. And once I heard from someone (an x) who surprised me. Even though I can carry on a conversation as well as anyone, when I thought about calling some of them again, I didn't know what we'd talk about. It was as if the word well had run dry.
Our interests had changed dramatically. The stepping stones we shared in that brief crossing had taken us to other destinations. At the time, we didn't know or share where we were headed. But now we were there, like standing on opposite shores, shouting across the rushing water.
We didn't work in the same fields or live where we'd first met and now had nothing in common. Aside from a conversation about our current lives, there semed nothing to pursue. It's like revisiting memories. It's a nice break, but you can't go back in time.
So they slipped again into the past.
And so did I.
And so did I.
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