At least once a week, some new area of the library smells strange and interesting. I know that sounds weird, but it's a true and unexplained phenomenon that catches my fancy every time I notice it. (At least three occasions, to date.) Last week, for example, the office smelled like baked goods (though I saw none around). Before that, the holds smelled of something...I already have forgotten what. And before that, the one that really caught my attention, was the popular books.
For perhaps twenty minutes, the popular books smelled like someone I never expected to miss quite so much.
I may see him again, though I'm not foolish enough to expect our strange friendship to survive a course of years. I always felt we were a mismatched pair to begin with, and was never so invested that I'd call myself heartbroken, but I miss him, all the same. It's nice, now and again, to feel wanted, even if it's in the most superficial of ways. And somehow, we got on well, he and I. I have a lot of fond memories of our...well...to say "time together" sounds at once appropriate and too strong, in my ears. But we'll leave it at that.
I'm glad I don't regret this. I hope I never will.
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4 comments:
I think the best outlook on life is one that is open. One that lets you make mistakes but also gives you wide-enough eyes to learn and see the virtue in anything.
It'd be hard not to keep being friends with someone like you. Even years later. Keep your chin up.
Aww, punkin. I will say that I've made a lot of wonderful friends in college, and I optimistically hope to keep in touch with most of them...counting you among that number. After all, we're doing pretty damn well so far, eh?
I've made it a point to keep silent and simply observe, but this particular post screams for me to comment.
Regret is a funny thing. Most people consider it to be the mind's residual consideration of potentially self-destructive incidents. Regret means you've "learned your lesson"... but that's not necessarily true. People rarely learn from their mistakes, and tend to repeat them with greater magnitude. Regret ends up being nothing more than what it is the aggregate of; pure shame. I hope with every ounce of myself that what you've done never leads to that shame, because I live with more of it than I care to mention and it's hell; one you've created and confined yourself within where each time you look into the mirror the only thing reflected is an asphyxiating sense of self-loathing. It all comes from a lack of foresight and desire that's so strong that you're effectively blinded to any consequence. If there's one thing I've learned in this life it's that your decisions, all of them, right or wrong, will follow you the rest of your life. That being said, if you always act within the realm of your own integrity, you should have nothing to be ashamed of. It's taken me too long to figure that out.
Another facet of this post that bothers me is the declaration that it's nice(to you) to feel needed needed even if it is under superficial motives. Nothing fills me with white-hot anger like you coming down on yourself. It's funny...in the time I've known you,I've never been able to truly understand why guys weren't falling over themselves to get to you. Of course, the simple explanation is that most of the guys around (and indeed most in general) are pompous meat-sacks in desperate need of a beating...but that still doesn't sit well with me, and I haven't come up with a good theory yet. Even more confusing is why you feel a superficial need is "good enough" for you. I cannot even begin to relate to you the venomous contempt I feel for the individual who gave you the idea that a shallow fancy is all you should expect. I won't extol the various qualities you possess which I think makes you an amazing catch, but know that they were always made evident with every conversation we had, and any person who cannot see those qualities isn't worth even one word passing your lips in their direction.
My one final point in this long and potentially idiotic rant has to do with friendship. I'm not like other people who can make a veritable laundry list of people they call " friend". There are only seven people in my life I call "friend", of which four are guys I've known since I was six years old. It never used to be that way, in fact I used to be a really "friendly" and amiable person who would sacrifice time, money, labor, and sometimes honor for them. What was my reward for all of the blood, sweat, and tears? It was the same thing time after time; nothing but a knife in the back. So, I closed myself off and became what I am now. It sounds sad, but the truth is that all of the pain and struggle gave me insight into human relationships. Most people have friends that fall into a category of companionship. These are the people who share your interests and ideals; individuals you see some of yourself in. These friends may come and go as the days change like the wind; some you keep, some you let go of and forget about. Neither one is less important, only of different purpose. Then, there are some people who also have friends who fall into a different category; they're so unlike yourself that they shed light on who you really are. Their personality, their upbringing, their politics, their outlook on life; to a person who has spent their whole life suffering and alone, finding one person different from themselves in just the right way can have a profound effect. Speaking with them, spending time with them; no matter how mundane the activity seems, it speaks to a part of you that needs perspective. I found that in you, Denson(and a couple of others). I don't know if this guy you're talking about will be one of those friends you keep or one you let go, but at the very least you've made one friend who will remain faithful to you as long as he draws breath...and he hopes that you won't forget about him.
The who and why(in relation to this mystery man) is really irrelevant, even though I have a couple of guesses. The important point out of this diatribe is that as dark and lonely as things might feel to you, as insignificant as life can make you seem, regardless of how things went; you'll always have at least one person who will be ecstatic to see you and willing to do what it takes to have your back. Always.
Thanks, Josh Incognito. :)
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