From the Past

I talked to an old friend today. I can say that now–at 35 friends can be old.

The chat was brief. Ten messages, a few less, a few more, shot back and forth over messenger while I took both kids into the doctor’s for runny noses and hacking coughs. Baby girl went up, down, turn around, and between kisses and screeches I managed a, “Hey, how are ya?” type of update. 

He was reminiscent. My friend who likes to talk about the past. Just briefly. Three times a year. Or so. He had stumbled across a picture of me and my college roommate, dressed in our best attempts at slutty-weirdness, and thought he’d share it with me.

This friend is always reminiscent, and I love him for it. Sometimes I don’t care what he’s doing now, and I don’t care what I’m doing now. Sometimes I am perfectly happy to share memories and say, “How strange we were,” or, “It’s amazing we got out alive.” 

We were. It is. 

Sometimes I need friends from the past to pop up because I need to be reminded that in that time when I was floating senseless–on fire, wild–I was loved. People saw through the storm and found good in me.

Sometimes I need friends from the past to pop up because I need to be reminded that even though I was senseless and sometimes cruel in my desperation, I am still loved. I can be forgiven. I can move on. 

And that is the most important thing to remember. I can move on. What is strange is that it takes a pleasant memory of the past to remind me that I am capable of growth and change and movement.

It’s ironic, really. Most people who know me would say I’m guilty of too much movement. I’m never still. Never settled. I never just let things be. Let them happen. Let them continue. 

But those who really know me–know me well and intimately–understand my fault, amidst all the running, was that I was always paralyzed. I floated along, completely devoid of action. I was moved. I never moved. 

But that is neither here nor there. Today was about yesterday, and it was good to reminisce and be reminded that those years… about ten of them… were not a waste. 

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