What happened to all those people I used to be friends with?
Matt, Forest, Susan, Guy, Cory, Elise, Alley, Lindsay, Chapin, LJ, Matt, Ricki, and countless others from my life in Hawaii. Ryan, Dalton, Andy, Steve, Jenn, Kelly, Bridget, Michelle, Mike, Nate, Rob, and so many others I met in college. Rae, Contessa, JenX, Michaela, bullyapollo, defy the reds, RadioPriest, Amber, Gemma, and hundreds of other friends I met online.
Why don’t we keep the friends we have? Why is it you can never go back? Rae and I were in love. What happened to that? Why haven’t I talked to her in almost four years? Or any of these people. I rarely hear =OF= them anymore, let alone hear =FROM= them.
What about way back when? Seth, Casey, Alicia. Even before them there was Max, Jason, and some kid named Adam.
Did they move away from me, or did I move away from them?
And what about the strangers we befriend temporarily? Why should those friendships have to end? The bloke in front of you in the queue, the woman next to you on the coach, the person who you make a tiny, temporary bond with because you have something in common; usually your current location or activity. Why should we let these people go?
Twice in my life I have made an impactful connection with someone, only to have it immediately torn apart. When I was very young, we had a tsunami warning in Hawaii (one of several while I was living there and none of them ever amounted to any real danger). Everyone was heading for high ground and listening to the radio to find out when it was safe to return. I don’t remember much, but I remember that this girl and I started colouring together. I don’t know why it made such a difference in my life, but I would give anything to find her again.
The other instance was also in Hawaii. Three of the actors from The Power Rangers TV show (back when it was first released in the states and was still kind of cool) were coming to Hawaii for some promotional gig. A throng was gathering at the airport to welcome them and I insisted on going. So we went out to the airport to meet them and get their autographs (actually, I really only wanted Amy Jo Johnson’s autograph). While I was there, I met this girl around my age. She was =so= beautiful. And she was really friendly, as well. Perhaps my pseudo-pubescent lust made more of it than was really there, but she and I agreed that we felt like we already knew the other from somewhere (is it possible that she was the same girl from the tsunami? It certainly isn’t impossible). Then it was time to go and I was too embarrassed to ask for her name and phone number. And like that, our friendship was over. I had managed to get Amy’s autograph, but I felt empty the entire ride home.
Now, reading old eMails and IM sessions from years ago; now, sitting alone, in the dark; now, with my closest friends miles away, I feel truly empty; truly alone. Morah will be home from work in a few hours and I’ll forget all about this.
You know what, though? I don’t want to forget. I’m a different person now. I’ve grown up a lot the past five years. I want to find everyone I’ve ever known and befriend them all over again; even the people I don’t like. Hell, even Chris Gouveia, which is saying a lot.
But I won’t and I can’t. All I can do is reconnect with people one day at a time. All I can do is search for them and try to make contact with them. All I can do is hope that, by the time I die, I’ve found the girl from the tsunami and thank her for making my life beautiful.0 People like this. Be the first!