I don't really know what to say. You look great! What a great-looking bunch of people you all are. But there's such a gulf now between you and me. It wasn't an abrupt parting of ways, but more of a gradual drifting apart. Kind of like that sappy Celine Dion song - it's "Far across the distance and spaces between us."
I feel as if we're standing opposite sides of a wide abyss, too far to speak but close enough to wave. It's a bit like that Coldplay lyrics: "I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak // and they're talking it to me." We're just standing here like mimes, making friendly signs across an impassable rift. It feels like we haven't really spoken in ages - ever since neglect started wearing away the rocks beneath our feet. And it's a down-right shame.
I can trace this drifting away to a very specific month. Your path shifted, and as you went in the new direction, my trail started changing, too. So when we came upon each other at this crossroads, we didn't know where the other had ventured. It's a little awkward, come to think about it. Like meeting your best friend from elementary school in the grocery store: we're not quite sure how we stand. Is this too chummy? Am I presuming a continued friendship? Am I being too formal?
And that's why I'm not quite sure what to say. Do you even want to continue where we left off? Things aren't going to be the same. Up to the divergence point, we had similar paths: homeschooling in highschool, maybe a little speech and debate, or a shared coop. But now, you've had experiences I can't share, and I've had ones I can't even begin to describe.
Maybe you've been reading this blog while our paths meandered away from each other. Maybe you think you've experienced everything with me as I went through it. I hope I'm not that easy to see through, but if you've been reading, you have a better chance at seeing this post.
I can't really describe where I'm at presently. In one way, my boundaries have lowered. But in another way, they are higher than they've ever been. In one way, I have more friends than I've ever had, but in another I've never been so alone. On the one hand, I've discovered myself in the position to lead, but on the other, I've never been so confused about where I'm going. While I speak more openly, my tongue also has dents from all the biting I've done. I'm more in shape but also more off-kilter. I share my ideas but not my thoughts. I learn from my mistakes and then blindly repeat them. I'm human. Aren't we all?
Here's the deal. I'd like to still be friends. But not if you continue to treat me as the person I was the last time we really talked. Just because I've been somewhere you haven't doesn't mean I want to tell you every single detail. And by the same token, I don't expect I'll ever understand every quest you've gone on during the parting of our ways.
I suppose we're both tired from our journeys, so why don't we just sit a spell and enjoy the companionship of old mates? We don't have to talk, but it'll be nice to have some company before heading off again.