Thursday, September 30, 2004
I recently found a few letters from an old friend. I hadn't spoken to her in about five years. I waited a few days before I called her to maybe catch up, have a nice conversation, who knows? During that time, I thought about maybe 100 things to say to/ask her. When I actually talked to her, not only did she not remember me very well, but she also wondered why I even called. I said I was just curious (I was). After six minutes of chat (no real conversation), she told me that she had to go. In dismay, I realized that she was saying goodbye forever. Of all those 100 things, I had the opportunity to say maybe two. Of all the possible conversations I had imagined, the one that I hadn't came to pass. That's what I get for telling the future. Goodbye, Alex Ezell.
It seems to me that perhaps she was telling me something about myself. She seemed to know that those two people who used to talk have long since perished. Whoever I am is foreign to whoever she is, and it would only be a confusion of our personalities to attempt to find something in an old friendship. We would be pretending that we were still those foolish children we once were (not that we aren't still foolish children). I think I am satisfied with the way that that relationship ended; would that others could end so well.
-Priam's Pride
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