Once were friends
It's difficult to write (if I even should) when I am afraid that my words will be as tinged with bitterness as others' seem to be. I guess that's where I differ from other people. I don't pretend to be a consistent or even a good friend - and if it is merely an acquaintance that I become, then no more than that - but in once sense it is easier. I forget perceived wrongs and try and move forward again. Just recently I felt a grave injustice had been done to me by an old friend; but in hindsight it is probably no more than that friend feels was done by me. We both have more to answer for than we think; and less to apologise for than we might fear. So we move on.
People keep on moving on. The view that you are what you will always be at some early age is not really true. That much is painfully evidenced by every divorce I handle and the attendant surprise. It doesn't automatically mean that because people move on they are disappointing other people. It's not always their right to be disappointed. I'd like to think that in any event it's when people come back that's important and not when they move on.
But I guess the one thing I am still is a hopeless idealist and a hypocrite; but rather a consistent hypocrite than a self-indulgent prude.
I don't believe in Darwinian evolution. It's the one thing that may prevent me from pursuing the one relationship I really want. Darwin was right about one thing, however, although he did not quite use these words. The social chameleon eats; the retiring butterfly dies.
People keep on moving on. The view that you are what you will always be at some early age is not really true. That much is painfully evidenced by every divorce I handle and the attendant surprise. It doesn't automatically mean that because people move on they are disappointing other people. It's not always their right to be disappointed. I'd like to think that in any event it's when people come back that's important and not when they move on.
But I guess the one thing I am still is a hopeless idealist and a hypocrite; but rather a consistent hypocrite than a self-indulgent prude.
I don't believe in Darwinian evolution. It's the one thing that may prevent me from pursuing the one relationship I really want. Darwin was right about one thing, however, although he did not quite use these words. The social chameleon eats; the retiring butterfly dies.