(no subject)

An earlier conversation with someone reminded me of an old friend and lover (of sorts; it was complicated). It's been almost eight years, but I still occasionally miss him intensely. After this long, the mourning for opportunities forever lost isn't as intense, but still I from time to time dig out his last letter to me, full of passion and promise, and wonder "What if...?". I'd forgotten the exact date that I got the phone call telling me he was gone and looked it up tonight; it was a mere seventeen days after this last note. Has it really been eight years? It doesn't seem it. I've kept a printed copy of the message carefully tucked into a book for the last seven years, one of my most treasured possessions, precious not just for the content but because I know I'll never see another from him in this lifetime.

I do miss you, P. The timing and circumstances were never quite right this time, but maybe on the next go-round...

Don't hesitate too long to let someone know how you feel, as there's no guarantee that you'll get the chance to do so. I try, but as to success there? Maybe not so much. I count myself incredibly fortunate that I got to hear what was in his head, even though it made the later news that much harder. I wish I still had my old mail logs to see exactly what my response to him was; that account is long since gone though, and the files lost in the wreckage of old hard drives.

(no subject)

Interestingly, when you're feeling scared and shaky, the Muppets version of "Mah Na Mah Na" can be oddly calming. Yes, I scare me too.