I don’t really write much but essays. Or rants. Or whatever you call it. I’m not much for creating things I don’t know in my head. However as I was washing my hands yesterday over the sink, a scene popped into my head, and I knew I had to write it down. That said, please see Star. A work of fiction, below.

 

He saw her across the room and had to take a breath.

“She looks the same”. He thought to himself. “Still not a smiler but always had a hint of a smirk there.”

Beer in hand, he tries to carry on, but finds himself too distracted to concentrate much on the conversation. Excusing himself, he uses his empty bottle to steer himself away.

He picks up a beer from the bar and steels himself to go say hi. Turning around, he realizes he doesn’t need to. She’s right behind him, offering a hug hello.

Small talk. It’s been seven years, and they haven’t had an actual conversation, apart from the Facebook happy birthdays and Christmas greetings. Catch up. She’s running a couple of small businesses now, a spa and small pharmacy in nearby locations. He tells her of his post at the ADB.

“Have you met my wife?” he finds himself saying. She says yes, they met when she came in, their friends introducing them. Congratulates him on the baby on the way.

“She’s my rock you know, I don’t think I could have made it this far without her.” He shares without really understanding why. She smiles and says she knows, and that she’s never seen him this content. Confident. It’s a testament to how a woman can change one’s life, her always with the woman hear me roar statements.

 

“But you’re my star.” He mumbles. She stares at him but doesn’t really say anything. Opening her mouth to speak, he interrupts. “No, don’t. We’ve gone through this before. I’m happy with my life, I just had to be honest.”

He continues, “Years from now, you will be a memory, a happy one, or better, a good friend, but for now, you’re still the star, my one that got away.”

She apologizes and says thanks, and moves the conversation away from the brutally honest one that just happened. They talk, and it’s like the seven years hadn’t passed. They part ways to catch up with other people, promising to keep in touch more often.

He goes back to his wife, kisses her on the cheek, joining her conversation.

 

 

I quote this, not as a vague comment on my relationship (We’re happy, thank you for asking), but of life in general. As part of the *new year* the girls in the house decided to clean their closets for things to give away, and it hit me how my philosophy in getting rid of the clothes in my space now parallels how I relate to the people in my life. It was simple, if I can no longer see myself ever fitting in it, or I can no longer see myself in it even if it did, I’ll let it go (cue Elsa in the ice gown).

I got rid of about a third of my things. I heard that a lot of the things that no longer fit went to a younger, very skinny cousin that lives down the street, and the rest, mom will distribute to where she sees it fit to go.
I’m turning thirty (GASP!) this year and I have to accept that even though you feel a certain fondness for things and people, there comes a time to let go when it just doesn’t fit anymore. No matter how much you try, too much time has passed, too many things have been missed. There are too many hurts that leave scars that in its wake, people stop caring about each other.

Wait. I’m not talking about clothes anymore am I?

Yes. People. Friends, in fact. They fall away, and move on without you. That happens when you grow apart, find new friends, find yourself a whole different person from the one they knew. And it’s not one person’s fault, (I hope) as friendships, like relationships are a two way street. When they reach out to you, ask you to lunch, or dinner, or a party, and you find yourself refusing for one reason or another, too many invitations later, you’re not part of the invite anymore. You feel hurt. You forget that you’ve been asked so many times and said no so many times, they’ve gotten tired of your excuses.

When you try and keep in touch after such a long time you forget who they are, or not know them anymore because you didn’t make the effort to do so in the months or years you were away. They’ve moved on and become busy with their careers, families, significant others, that you lose commonalities, or even things to talk about. Conversations become stunted, awkward, and you can’t wait for the one dinner you show up to, to end.

 

I guess I’m writing this as a love letter to the friends I’ve let go of, and those who will move on from my life in the future. For one reason or another, you’ve all helped shape who I am, whether to push me to become stronger because of misunderstandings and pain that have been shared, or through your positivity and generosity. It sounds cheesy, but I wish you all the joy and happiness that you truly deserve in life, and even if we are no longer in each other’s presences, know I am ecstatic for your accomplishments and weep with you in your disappointments.

 

What (or who) are you letting go of this year?