
I think that part of being away from friends for extended lengths of time causes you to have to make assumptions about them and their state of being. You can talk to them on the phone regularly and know about their ups and downs and you can even understand inherently that they have a tendency toward melancholia. But you sort of have to take them at their stories of being A-OK, of enjoying where they're at and what they're doing despite a tinny echo of sadness coming through the phone.
You can be fully aware that making plans to spend some time with each other comes with a sort of unspoken disclaimer that although the plans are set, there is still a more-than-likely chance that the visiting time will not happen. You understand that and you accept that because in the back of your mind you know what they're like and you take them, quirks and all. But. When you're actually there, in the same building, at the same wedding and their eyes won't ever meet yours, and any attempt at conversation - which normally flows easily and comfortably - seems awkward and sort of painful, a lot of things start to run through your head.
You can be fully aware that making plans to spend some time with each other comes with a sort of unspoken disclaimer that although the plans are set, there is still a more-than-likely chance that the visiting time will not happen. You understand that and you accept that because in the back of your mind you know what they're like and you take them, quirks and all. But. When you're actually there, in the same building, at the same wedding and their eyes won't ever meet yours, and any attempt at conversation - which normally flows easily and comfortably - seems awkward and sort of painful, a lot of things start to run through your head.
And then you see the picture.
And that one flash of light, that one click of a button, caught more unspoken understanding than you realized.
No comments:
Post a Comment