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Tuesday, November 22, 2011

number twenty seven: missing someone

Missing someone

I know, I know. It doesn’t seem positive. And maybe it’s not. But maybe it’s the surest way to measure, intangibly of course, someone’s effect on your life.

Today as always I was perusing facebook. I have several addictions, FB is a definite one, and one they sure as hell don’t make a patch for. So I was on there, and on my feed popped up a post from a friend from another life. A Mt Adams life.

If you’re reading this and don’t know what Mt Adams is, we probably aren’t friends in real life. Considering that place, that program, those people, are the most important and fundamental aspects of my life. I’ll without doubt over the course of my life write something on here about that place, but that time is not now.

Dylan’s name caught my eye. He’s not someone that the Facebook gods place in my news feed often. This is the first time I’ve seen his name in months. And I started to ache. All over my entire body. But mostly in my limbs. A side effect no doubt from lack of Mt Adams and it’s people being within reach.
It’s funny how feelings like that come out of simply seeing a name. In this case, seeing Dylan’s made me miss the sound of his voice and listening, really listening, to whatever subtle genius was in his message. It made my regret losing touch with so many people over the years, while realizing that it’s seemingly inevitable. However, if anyone has any pointers for battling this, please tell me how.

Missing someone, I think, gives an indication of how much a person meant or means to your life. I’m better at missing people in retrospect, once they’re out of my life by force, lack of proximity, or a combination of the two. Relationships and bonds, even the really important ones, manage to constantly slip between the cracks of my life. And while that aspect is anything but utterly wonderful, the feeling of missing someone is a nice reminder that I’m not an island. That I do need to cultivate the important relationships, major or insignificant, with a wild fervor.

Thanksgiving is in two days, and today I’m thankful for facebook and the reminder it yields us of people we should be very thankful for.

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