inlovewithwords: (Default)
Lee ([personal profile] inlovewithwords) wrote2013-02-01 09:38 pm

The other, gold

In the trivial-minutiae update: Sleep schedules are really, really hard to manage. Blah.

To pick up where I left off yesterday, I got home from my father's with a bit of a nostalgic bug. It had been bothering me for a while, really. Seeing my friend from high school had only made it worse, really. I’m not the best correspondent in the world, don’t get me wrong—but apparently staying in touch with people is a really bloody hard thing to do, especially in this age of insta-sound-byte communication. If you don’t participate in that, you’re left behind.

And, again, I’m far more fond of drawn-out conversations, emails, actual in-depth connection. Some days I feel weirdly old-fashioned for a Child of the Internet. More than that, though, I have consistently felt like I had to be the one always saying hi, or else the interaction dropped off. It's emotionally really straining to always be* the person holding that up, so when it remained a trend, I kind of... stopped. And guess what, people fell out of touch. It still hurt, though.

About a week ago, then, I was reminiscing about this, and began mentally drawing up a list of the people I really, really wish I’d kept in better touch with. Among them was one of my dearest friends from late middle through high school, the one who began that journal I totally failed to mail onwards to our mutual friend.

A day or two later, I got a message from her via Facebook, totally out of the blue.

(Like I said: telepathic and precognitive. There have been so many times things like this have happened. I should start keeping a journal.)

After some scrambling, we managed to be on Gchat at the same time—and by all things good and holy in this world, I had missed her so much. It turns out I don’t care about people lightly or terribly whimsically: once I get to a certain point, and that hole gets left, I get really depressed and some part of me never sits quite right after. And for a long time, she and our other friend came right after my middle school heartsister (we’d met when I was ten) in my heart.

(Parents aren’t on this scale. I’ll talk about this more in a couple weeks.)

Red and I (till permission given, let’s call her Red) don’t live on the same continent, so the only time I’ve really gotten to spend time with her not at a keyboard was when my parents and I were visiting the country. We met up, hung out at museum for the day, and I can honestly say it was one of the best days I had that summer, probably that whole blasted year. But we fell out of touch not long after. So this was a bolt out of the blue after something like four, five years.

I stayed up until five or six in the morning (unwise, I know) just because, well, what else am I supposed to do? I realized I really didn’t want this to happen again--really really didn’t want it to—and so began mentally drawing up a list of people to add to that list and ways to keep in touch/up to speed that didn’t involve fast-paced-social-media.

I still needed one other push to actually start this journal-blog-attempt, though. More on that—well, maybe not tomorrow. Tomorrow might be drowned in chatter about The Hobbit. We’ll see.

*This is a split infinitive I'm okay with using. I feel like I'll eventually end up doing a rant on this subject. Why, brain, why.

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