Thursday, February 10, 2005


I was over at Kaetlan's earlier and reading her latest post. It hit home for me and I realized that it would be really cool if she like, lived across the street from us or something. Sure, this blog thing is a great way to connect with like minded people all over the fucking place, but nothing beats a real face to face conversation with someone you connect with. And if K lived across the street, and she was over here helping us kill a bottle of vodka and sharing the details of the day, I could of shared a similar story that would have ended in a hug, and the realization that we as a species are very much alike when it comes to relationships, failed or otherwise.
Having had my share of the failed variety since puberty, I can tell you that I remember them all. The clarity may be a bit fuzzy, but it's there. Sometimes the memory is crystal clear and resolute, as in "there's eight years of my life that I'll never get back...damn it".
I may have told this story here before, I'm not sure. I know I've mentioned Wendy here on a couple of occaisions and I'll spare you the history beyond the pertinent facts, they are...Wendy and I went to school together, we went "steady" over and over again throughout jr. and high school. I always loved her and I beleive that she almost always loved me. I hurt her and she hurt me, mostly in that adolescent way that all of us do, but we were drawn together. School ended and I didn't see her for years. Then one night I was with a group of kids from the treatment center I managed at an AA meeting in westlake, where Wendy and I grew up. I was talking to the staff at my center on the phone in the coffee room when i heard a voice behind me say "Rob?", I turn around and there she is...Wendy, I recognized her right away, she recognized my voice. I got off the phone, we embraced, and with that embrace a flood of memories were released. The way she smelled, the way she felt. That sparkle in her eyes. It was all still there. I loved her all over again, or rather the memory. We exchanged numbers and promised to keep in touch. I never called her, she never called me. And after a long time I realized what we had really promised each other was to keep in touch with the memory. And I do. I will always remember her as the girl in the jeans and the flannel shirt, pigtails under a matching bandanna...and that sparkle in her eyes. I'm lucky to have this memory and it reminds me of where I've been. And that experience helps me value what I have now, because without Wendy I wouldn't be where I am today. There are others with not such a happy ending, but they were necessary too.
And here I am, with all the lessons learned trying hard to continue moving forward.To learn some more.

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