Friendship Statistics
The number of friends I've lost throughout the years is staggering. Is this what growing up old is supposed to be like? A weeding out of unnecessary things? If so, it is kind of lonely.
I suppose people migrate, transfer to other jobs, delete YM, have a cathartic moment, leave a relationship, erase blog posts, get a new number, change surnames, become a parent, reinvent themselves --- and before you know it, you can't even afford to say hi when your paths cross again. Or, if you can, it's a hesitant nod. A lousy, "Hey." It's pretty much a stiff acknowledgement of the awkwardness that will ensue if you try to recall shared times. So hey, forget it, lost friends weren't real friends to begin with--is this what people hold on to now for comfort?
This whole emotional investment thing gets pretty tiring, huh? And, it takes quite a considerable amount of effort to start meeting and knowing people (again). New birthdays to remember, new numbers to put on speed dial, new places to meet at, new bands to see, new destinations to book, new parents to meet, new house directions to memorize.
Someone with a fondness for the "good old times" might never survive it. I know I barely did.
I suppose people migrate, transfer to other jobs, delete YM, have a cathartic moment, leave a relationship, erase blog posts, get a new number, change surnames, become a parent, reinvent themselves --- and before you know it, you can't even afford to say hi when your paths cross again. Or, if you can, it's a hesitant nod. A lousy, "Hey." It's pretty much a stiff acknowledgement of the awkwardness that will ensue if you try to recall shared times. So hey, forget it, lost friends weren't real friends to begin with--is this what people hold on to now for comfort?
This whole emotional investment thing gets pretty tiring, huh? And, it takes quite a considerable amount of effort to start meeting and knowing people (again). New birthdays to remember, new numbers to put on speed dial, new places to meet at, new bands to see, new destinations to book, new parents to meet, new house directions to memorize.
Someone with a fondness for the "good old times" might never survive it. I know I barely did.