An Oldie...But A Goodie

This post is from April of 2006. I was thinking this morning about a few people that have gone and disappeared on me and it made me remember this post. I've done some lite editing. Cut a few parts out (including the refrain which at the time I loved but now seem to despise just a little), reworded a few parts as well. But it's essentially just a re-post from way back when.

I ran into someone the other day. Guy I used to know in high school. We were friendly, if not really friends, and we talked quite a bit our first year out of school. But then we sort of lost touch in that way you tend to do. So six years went by, and next thing you know here we are passing each other by on the way out of the 7-11 not more than five minutes walk from where we both went to school. And what do you have to talk about after six years? Not what you've done, but what you're doing. We both remember what we intended to do when last we spoke, and here we are in a parking lot near Paterson reminding each other about how we haven't done it. But still when you walk away...

Ran into another guy I know going into the 7-11 last night. Known the kid most of my life, wouldn't think twice about calling him a good friend. But I can count on both hands the number of times I've seen him in the last seven years. Can count on one hand the number of times I've even thought about him in the past year. It's like the stories we used to share have been shrewdly edited to let us all forget that he ever existed. Just makes telling them easier. Not that he ever did anything wrong, just that he's not there to defend his part in our stories anymore and that makes it easier to write him out of them completely. And it's funny when you run into a guy like that now, funny what you talk about. Not what you're doing, or even what you've done, but who you still know, who you've seen. "What about old so-and-so?" You almost assume that since you haven't seen them, that they must have, since you don't really see each other anymore. And if neither one of you see them then, hell, they must not exist anymore. And when being specific gets too depressing you say, "Have you seen anyone?" Just begging for them to tell you something about someone you both used to know, and when they answer no, that they haven't seen anyone it almost breaks your heart. Because you know they must have seen someone. Just not possible for seven years to pass and you not see anyone. But then they ask you the same thing...and you lie right back to them. Nope, I ain't seen anyone either. And then you figure it's time to go, so you promise to get together soon and invite all the people that neither one of you have seen out for a drink, and for about four seconds you actually believe it's going to happen and then you remember...you've got other things to do. And that's that. You're both gone and wondering if either one of you ever really knew the other.

Ran into another guy today, in 7-11, and it took me a minute to make sure I knew it was him. Nothing worse then thinking you know someone only to find out it ain't them. And I said, "Hey Dave. Been awhile." And he looked at me for a minute, like maybe he'd done too many drugs, or maybe I'd gained too much weight, and he wasn't really sure if I was who he thought I was, and he didn't want to get it wrong because there ain't nothing worse then knowing someone but not realizing who it is you think you know. And he said, "Chris, right?" And I said, "Hell yes." Like it ain't been seven years and it wouldn't have been the most natural thing in the world for him not to remember me. And I said, "So what have you been up to?" And he goes, "Just working." And I said, "Yeah. Same here." Even though there were seven years worth of things I could have told him that would have all been completely new to him, but instead I said "How's your brother? You tell him I said hello." And he said, "Same to yours." And I said, "It was good seeing you." Even though I'm not entirely sure it really was, and he said the same and we shook hands and headed out. And if it were seven years till I saw him again, I don't know if I'd notice, and neither would he.

And I wonder if I'm done meeting new people, and if I was have I met enough to have my fill? And the thought frightens the living shit out of me. I ain't been but 45 minutes away from where ever I start in damn near a year, and though there's plenty of adventure to be had 45 minutes from anywhere in North Jersey I'm beginning to wonder if there's enough.

In my life I've met the greatest people I could ever want to meet, and I've watched them come, and I've watched them go and I've lost far too many of them before I was ready. And some days I wake up wondering if today's the day someone that's gone will come back, or someone that only just got here will move on, and I never seem to know which it will be. But I do know one thing...if I die today or if I live forever, my life just wouldn't have been worth living without those people that come and go.