I have been inundated with visits from old friends lately. I guess the holidays does that to you. Brings to mind all the memories you have of past holidays and past friends and past…lives, it seems. It began with Charlie and Hannah. Followed by close encounters of the odd kind with a few girls I knew in highschool while waiting in line at Starbucks. We exchanged a few awkward greetings and hugs and then parted ways contentedly.Next there was the near stalking from another old pal. One whom I was very close to during high school. We still call each other by insulting names and still make fun of the other’s clothes. And inevitably, he invited himself over and inevitably, he stayed until 2:30 am. He hit on my sisters for the fun of it and ate our cereal. Once again he sat on our couch, openly picking his nose and laughing about it. Once again he played with our dog and our cats and scavenged our fridge.
He’s going for his masters degree, which doesn’t seem possible. He has such an infinitely short attention span. And of course, he’s in love – for once I say that without cynicism. In highschool, we used to lie in bed together just talking and laughing at our other friends and their escapades. Which we also did this time. Minus the bed. He gives everyone personal gifts and is open with nearly every aspect of his life. He sort of…explodes all over you, making you laugh and commiserate accordingly. I love him forever, the smart-ass.
Of course, he didn’t bring all happiness and gaiety. With him followed the story of a mutual friend who was diagnosed with cancer and of cheating significant others in both our histories, of failed marriages and friends in Iraq. Proof that meeting again with anyone is bittersweet.
Friends from college have popped up everywhere. Ironic, considering the times we were apart centered around holidays. Much of this has to do with the infamous HP party – a grand success, by the way. I’ll post some pictures once I get them developed (tomorrow). I’ve been consistently emailing a friend who spent the year and some in Scotland studying. I know if I was in Scotland, I’d have trouble studying. Another young man popped in la galleria to hug and chastise me for not telling him personally of my engagement.
And there are missed opportunities. People not in attendance for the Goblet of Fire. Weddings missed, birthdays passed by. Phone calls I don’t have the where-with-all to make because I know I’ll be on the phone longer than I’m comfortable. I’m not really a giver of my time so easily. Parties I have forgotten to RSVP to and letters/emails/IM’s I haven’t written.
You can never tell which snowflakes will melt before they reach the ground and which will stick. Some float towards you and then melt in your breath. Some you quash. Some you dance with and some you walk on. Some you play with and some turn to teardrops on your cheek.