January 27, 2014
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I think about you....
A LOT.
Okay, not a lot, but I do think about you often. and I wonder sometimes if you think about me too. Oh, yeah, no-- I don't want that friendship back but at the same time, I find great pleasure in discovering what kind of a person you became after me.
No less angry, I see.
And I find it strange that I do want to know what kind of life you lived after that nuclear fallout. I mean, at that end there I didn't want anything to do with you, and not just because every time we spoke, I'd cry-- and not just becuase any time I knew you were coming, I'd grow uncommonly hostile. Shouldn't your things not matter to me?
Maybe I think of the past and those people in my past a lot. I do, and I don't find this uncommon. I keep tabs on friends, many of whom later thank me and say 'It's too bad we weren't closer /back then/'. And I wonder to myself, 'but I thought that we were closer'.
Side-tracked.
What I meant to say when I started this, is:
"Who else finds other people's drama interesting? Even if you are no longer (or never were) a part of their lives..."
