(no subject)
I don't even remember how to share my feelings properly on the internet anymore.
It's funny. I was going in a desk drawer, and I found a note from long ago. By long ago, I mean elementary school, but it's been a far enough time away from the person who wrote me the note (doodled, colored, and taped a hand drawn blue ribbon on it, all in gel ink-the best of the best colors) is no longer in my present "circle" of life, and so much has changed. We just stopped. If you were to have me put a finger on a timeline of how long I've known this person, and say, "Okay, where exactly did you two stop being friends?" The line would be kinda hazy.
Social media is weird that way. Small towns are weird that way. There are people that I have known since elementary school, that I have stopped talking to, and then reunited with. That I made my way into their worldview, and vice-versa. And then to top it off, the nosy part of me is able to simply type their name in, and voila! Instantly, I know what they have been up to. I have a snippet into their life, and within a certain number of words, I know how they feel about the same issues that affect me (in a holistic/national type way). I am friends with all these people on social networks, yet if I see them at work...I hide. I have no idea how to interact with some of them anymore. It's awkward. We left it awkwardly. That previous sentence was structured in an awkward manner. AWKWARD.
It's one of the larger cities in Ohio, my hometown, but it still feels small. You know people. Hell, even if you don't talk to people, you can still generally tell who is from around here, and who is not. So, of course, people talk. I see the parents of the people that I used to have these relationships with, and they talk. I mean it makes sense they would update me on the lives of their children, who doesn't love to talk about their kids? But then I realize looking on the other side, they are probably wondering why I haven't kept up or spoken directly with them. It matters, and it doesn't.
Sometimes I miss my old "circle." I miss the old problems we used to have (which were seemingly significant but overtly simple to fix), I miss the idea of the "sisterhood." I realize now there were major flaws towards the end, and I have taken fault and forgiven myself and others where it needed to be. It was a slow burning reaction of a process, and I don't think any of us really thought of the major reaction being kinda toxic (and maybe still it's just me) till we were finally apart and the end. Doesn't change the outcome of what happened years ago, and it doesn't change how I felt about my last social years of high school, before I made a new "circle." And in contrast, this "circle" seems much more genuine than the old one, but the old one is where my roots lay. Where "Beth" and her ideals were originally fostered. Where I learned how to be a person. So sometimes, I get wistful. I grow nostalgic. I want to know I am not alone within my own personal doubts, within the struggles I face now- being graduated, searching for a job, still working at the same retail chain, being up to my hip bones in debt (small compared to others, but still significant), and I want to know how people feel about their hometown. If maybe in a few years, I will see familiar faces.
But what I do know, right now, is how funny time is. And how I still lack courage to actually say anything, to actually acknowledge these people, without it seeming desperate. It's more of a desire to fulfill curiosity, and a sly wistfulness that has a tendency to creep up when I am not fully paying attention.
But, maybe someday. It's always a possibility, and time is something I have of slight abundance.
It's funny. I was going in a desk drawer, and I found a note from long ago. By long ago, I mean elementary school, but it's been a far enough time away from the person who wrote me the note (doodled, colored, and taped a hand drawn blue ribbon on it, all in gel ink-the best of the best colors) is no longer in my present "circle" of life, and so much has changed. We just stopped. If you were to have me put a finger on a timeline of how long I've known this person, and say, "Okay, where exactly did you two stop being friends?" The line would be kinda hazy.
Social media is weird that way. Small towns are weird that way. There are people that I have known since elementary school, that I have stopped talking to, and then reunited with. That I made my way into their worldview, and vice-versa. And then to top it off, the nosy part of me is able to simply type their name in, and voila! Instantly, I know what they have been up to. I have a snippet into their life, and within a certain number of words, I know how they feel about the same issues that affect me (in a holistic/national type way). I am friends with all these people on social networks, yet if I see them at work...I hide. I have no idea how to interact with some of them anymore. It's awkward. We left it awkwardly. That previous sentence was structured in an awkward manner. AWKWARD.
It's one of the larger cities in Ohio, my hometown, but it still feels small. You know people. Hell, even if you don't talk to people, you can still generally tell who is from around here, and who is not. So, of course, people talk. I see the parents of the people that I used to have these relationships with, and they talk. I mean it makes sense they would update me on the lives of their children, who doesn't love to talk about their kids? But then I realize looking on the other side, they are probably wondering why I haven't kept up or spoken directly with them. It matters, and it doesn't.
Sometimes I miss my old "circle." I miss the old problems we used to have (which were seemingly significant but overtly simple to fix), I miss the idea of the "sisterhood." I realize now there were major flaws towards the end, and I have taken fault and forgiven myself and others where it needed to be. It was a slow burning reaction of a process, and I don't think any of us really thought of the major reaction being kinda toxic (and maybe still it's just me) till we were finally apart and the end. Doesn't change the outcome of what happened years ago, and it doesn't change how I felt about my last social years of high school, before I made a new "circle." And in contrast, this "circle" seems much more genuine than the old one, but the old one is where my roots lay. Where "Beth" and her ideals were originally fostered. Where I learned how to be a person. So sometimes, I get wistful. I grow nostalgic. I want to know I am not alone within my own personal doubts, within the struggles I face now- being graduated, searching for a job, still working at the same retail chain, being up to my hip bones in debt (small compared to others, but still significant), and I want to know how people feel about their hometown. If maybe in a few years, I will see familiar faces.
But what I do know, right now, is how funny time is. And how I still lack courage to actually say anything, to actually acknowledge these people, without it seeming desperate. It's more of a desire to fulfill curiosity, and a sly wistfulness that has a tendency to creep up when I am not fully paying attention.
But, maybe someday. It's always a possibility, and time is something I have of slight abundance.