In college, there was this guy who was part of our group of friends. He was super-cute, he owned the cut-off jean shorts look like no one I’ve ever known, and he was one hell of a player. In the summer of 1991, he pursued me incessantly and was undiscouraged, despite my indifference. And, then, finally, he caught me. We had a fling that lasted a few weeks at most, and then he declared that he wanted to reunite with his ex-girlfriend. Suddenly, I was no longer the catch of the day. I remember it hurt me at the time, but it was a surprisingly short-lived pain: the logical answer to a mathematical equation that divides the level of emotion by the span of the encounter.
Thus, we remained friends then and still are today.
Which brings me to my point. When we become adults, we enjoy the ability (or at least the opportunity) to remove any weighty baggage from our feelings. And express ourselves as we sense it. Knowing that, especially with good friends, we can say what’s in our hearts and not feel the least bit inhibited.
Back in 1991, I wouldn’t have dreamed of telling Mr. randy-pants, denim-clad womanizer that I loved him. Or imagined that any time in the future I would say anything like that. But, today, with certain people, these words fall out of me almost as often as: the, and, and but. I treasure so much those times, and those friendships that I truly do love and care deeply for those whom I’ve chosen to still be connected with.
Which actually brings me to my real point. It is hard sometimes in the moment to know that everything will be OK. Years later, we can look back and laugh (or whatever), knowing what we know today. Sometimes, wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could know today what we will know tomorrow? But I guess that’s not how things work.
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