Thirty Somethings...Thing 9

Day 09 → Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

She's just one of those corners in my mind,
And I just put her right back with the rest
That's the way it goes. I guess...



I've had, to my best estimation, nearly three lifetimes worth of amazing friendships. And this lifetime is, I hopity-hope-hope, not nearly halfway through.

Facebook, for all of it's renowned evil, has made it possible for me to be in touch with every last person I can imagine who, before it's advent, might have been a drifted person I sorely missed. And for that I am eternally grateful.

While I'm able to remain in touch with everyone from my past that I might've missed, there is something adrift in the friendship department. And that something is 'circles' of friends.

There are a million things I wouldn't do in a million years. Go back to high school. Go back to college. Go back to my twenties. Go back to, well, yesterday. I have no interest in going back. Because as confused as I am today, I know things I didn't know yesterday and I'd hate to unknow them. I like knowing what I know, you know?

That said, I do wish I could time-warp to past circles of friends in present circumstances.

I'd knock on Jon and Dom's door, really, REALLY loudly because it's always funny to do that, just in case they're getting high. There would be no arm-twisting necessary if I bore a deck of cards and dared utter, "Let's play Hearts!' We'd laugh and compete and shirk responsibility, for just a little bit.

Because we're older now. And, presumably, a touch more responsible. And skipping 'class' has been usurped by responsibilities unskippable.

I'd call Steve and he'd say, "We're hanging out at Ray's and Dan and John and Aaron and Tim and Kelly are going to be there, too." I'd then call Ray who'd remind me which turn it is I take to get to his house again because I always fucking miss it. We'd lounge around listening to the Dead and being, well, really fucking cool.

I'd be in the bathroom with Dee, Carrie, and Kristin and we'd all be jockeying for a good position in the the mirror to do our hair; it's a good thing Kristin is short and Carrie is tall and Dee and I are average. A perfect diamond of hair-doing friends in the mirror. We'd joke about queefing and generally grace the bathroom with our astounding ability to laugh at just about anything and swear in ways no sailor had ever deemed possible.

I miss my circles of friends. I miss the person they made me when I was growing within the comfort and love of their friendship. Each and every person in those circles, and countless others, significantly altered who I am. No. Made me who I am. And while I love being in touch with each and every one of them, even the farm-building ones (bastards), I miss 'us all' for the village we were.

Those circles are now in the past and we'll likely not ever visit that geometrical shape again, so trapezoid it is. Regardless, these circles of friends sent me adrift. They drifted me off to others a better person for having been in their circle.

And while I miss the incarnations of me in large part for the people I surrounded myself by during those incarnations, the Zubes I was - before trapezoids became a way of life - belongs in a treasured corner of my mind.

And, because it's the best thing to do, I just put her right back with the rest. That's the way it goes. I guess.