Sometimes you can know someone and really not know them at all.
Sometimes people stop listening to their hearts and hear only the sadness and pain inside of them.
Sometimes people get lost.
Sometimes you have to accept that there is nothing you can do.
Sometimes people get stuck on their high horse and can't figure out how to get down.
Sometimes you have to just leave.
Sometimes all you can do is hope that someday they will heal.
Sometimes you have to start from scratch.
Sometimes something that was once so wonderful can turn rotten and curdled in old age.
Sometimes you just have to let go.
I'm sure we've all been in a situation where we are grasping at the bits and pieces that are left of a friendship, a relationship, a project, a place, a dream. We'd love to save it, to make it right, to get out a needle and thread and sew the pieces back up into what they were before.
Unfortunately this isn't always possible- everything changes, and few truly wonderful things can last forever. there comes a point when we have to stop reminiscing, hoping, trying... and just let go, move on, and start anew.
This is how I feel about the situation I once had in Prescott. I had many best friends, we were all extremely close, we had a wonderful place that we spent all our time at, and there was no drama, no backstabbing, no two-faced-ness. With time, though, we've all drifted away, people have done atrocious things that none of us would have expected, and honestly... we're barely even friends anymore.
This past friday was 2.11, which we celebrate because the apartment number of the apartment that we all stayed at was 211. I had high hopes of spending time with dear old friends and reminiscing about the wonderful times that had passed, but honestly I was pretty disappointed. Sure, I still had some fun... but none of the people that actually deserved to be there were there. We didn't talk about the good ol' days. We didn't really talk about the real 211, the 211 that mattered, at all, because the pieces were missing. I felt like what we were celebrating was fake, an image concocted by other people who really have no idea what made 211 worthwhile and important in the first place.
Is it really worth celebrating something when the whole meaning for celebration has gotten lost? Is it worth devoting a day to remembrance when no one who can actually remember the best parts wants to celebrate? Somehow I don't think so.
Anyways, I decided it's time to let go of that part of my past that I was still carrying along with me. I met wonderful people, had wonderful times, created wonderful memories, and that is enough. Instead of being irritated that all this was tainted by unfamiliar faces and the passing of time, I'm just going to set down these annoyances and wishes and keep going. the friends that I made there that matter will always stick around. The best memories will stand out long after the others have faded. But that's all I need- a fond memory.
So here's to you, 211. Thank you for the times.
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