There are moments when you start to write something, and then think better of it. You start to question your stance, and wonder if you’re being judgmental. At the same time, you have to ask, what I was going to say, is it relevant, or relevant to my perspective? In this case, my thoughts center around one person whom I’ve not seen in probably five years. I’ve known him for ten. In doing a little online tracking down, I cam across him. I was forced to wonder, have we diverged so much? Appearances can be deceiving, but it would seem that his outward appearance is what mine was when I went off to college, and mine is more like his, when I first met him. I’ve normalized, lost the punk rock trappings, and consider my professional appearance. He went for the mohawk and the piercings. The irony is that as I look over my writings between then and now, I feel like I’ve grown as a person, in my perspectives and my insights. In reading his, they appear unchanged.
Time and experience make it hard not to color my perceptions, as much as I might try not to bias. I look and wonder when we stopped speaking, even though I know why. Despite having much in common, we were never able to maintain that connection.
Where my path, to me at least, has been singular and focused, his seemed to have changed direction more than a few times. In looking back, I wonder, how much of a nudge would it have taken, for our paths to have been switched? Regardless, I would not be happy with what he has, and I doubt he’d have any love for what I have.
In the end, I’m left with the thought I had in 2003, when I moved back to DC. “I’ll never stay, and you’ll never go.” True to form, I got as far away as I could. Him, he never left. Now, I ponder the thought that me, I’ll never go back. Him, he’ll probably never leave. I hated it enough to get as far away as I could. He’ll never leave, because he loves to hate it so much.
At the same time that I left, my then landlord said to me, “You’ll be back. Nobody ever really leaves. Everyone comes back eventually.” I replied, “Yeah? Watch me.”
Richmond, VA. Never again. 2,900 miles, and I’ve never looked back. Those days are gone, but those people live on. Here’s to hoping they’re happy. Especially him.
Who are you referring to? Sounds like me! Hope all is well.