To My Friends in Different Seasons

So I have been away for awhile. At first, it was hard because I missed a lot of familiar things; our shared laughter and tears. The countless meals we shared, the holidays we spent together. The times we complained together about how we wished our lives were different. The conversations we had about our dreams and hopes. I left all of the everyday things we experienced and was only able to hold on to the memories.

Since then, as time has elapsed, we’ve grown, perhaps not together, but not fully apart. At least not for me. Sometimes when we meet again, it feels like two strangers getting to know each other, I try to pick up where we left off from my somewhat dusty memories, never really able to find the right rhythm again…never able to recreate the feeling of our ordinary moments.

Each year that has passed that I’ve been away, a little bit of the old me has chipped away. Some parts of me only exist in memory now. But every time I return to greet you again, a little bit of the old you has chipped away as well. But I am not disappointed in losing who you were, I am only disappointed that I wasn’t there to see the change. I am only disappointed, at times, because the more of you that becomes “new and improved”, the less of you I know. I suppose I am the same.

So we greet each other in familiar ways, while knowing we are even less familiar with each other every time. We have almost no time for long conversations to catch up on how much has changed, and so we accept huge leaps found in assumptions.

But there is one thing that hasn’t changed about me. And one thing that hasn’t changed about you. Even as years have passed between us and various life changes as happening amongst the ordinary moments we cannot share together…

Even as we will all come to a place where it will no longer be easy to just “pick up where we left off”…

Even when I have a hard time telling sharing the ordinary with you…

We will always have the extraordinary, if we fight for it. We can fight to make the moments that we can share together as special as possible. They may only be highlights and glimpses of time passed, simple and vague impressions of who we are, laced in the memories of who were once were.

They will always be unique collections to exist in the mind of the other. I don’t know what you’ve collected of me, which stories you’ll recap the most when you think of me, which memories will leave the deepest impressions in your mind…. but that version of me that exists for you while I am unable to share the ordinary with you, must be extraordinary.

It’s extraordinary because it means I am still around without being around. Even as you are still around without being around. And as for me…you are still around. Even if we can’t make new memories as often as we used to in the ordinary, you will remain extraordinary, both in life and in memory.

Love,

Your friend Rose.