And Memories Fade
Musings
I don't remember where we met. It was unremarkable in that sort of way, but I suppose maybe I should remember. Probably some "friend of a friend of a friend" introduced us or something. We just ran in the same circles. I think it must have been ten years ago, or somewhere around then, that I met Anne.
She always complained that she never had any nicknames, so I gave her one. Once we actually started to get to know each other, after she had at some point mentioned this to me, I always called her Em. Well, first it was Annie-M, in reference to her last name, but I shortened it to Em.
We would talk so much. She really was a significant part of my world, but like so many things in my life, like everything it seems at times like this, she just faded out of my life. I guess she wasn't any different than my disposable interests and distracted goals.
I guess you could say I was in love with her, but it's all just too hard to define. I relished and treasured our closeness. For a long time I really felt that she was the only person I could tell everything and anything at all. And I would know if she wanted to talk seriously. She would say, "Hey Evelyn?" But she would say it entirely too casually. Sometimes she would call me "Ev", sometimes it was dumbass, sometimes even my full name. But for a long time we really did tell each other everything. Every shameful secret, every fear, every indulgence. We just shared so much. I could get pretty swept up in it sometimes.
I could just get hopelessly lost in her eyes. It's not like she had such incredible eyes or anything, I'm not even going to claim that she was notably beautiful. She was normal, in all honesty. It might even be said that she had a little extra baggage if you want the truth of it. She never did lose those extra pounds she hated so much. Em was normal. She was ridiculously competitive and picky in some areas, though she never was so good at anything that she was really outstanding. In other areas, she could be annoyingly lazy and disorganized, sometimes she could be a narcissist and a martyr, and at other times she could be painfully realistic. It’s not like her faults made up her entire being or anything, she had her advantages too. She had a good sense of humor, she was a reliable place to place your trust, and she was always very careful to be sincere. What I mean is that she was flawed like every other human being on this earth, and I've always known and understood that.
But sometimes there are just those people you can connect to more easily than other people. For me, Em was one of those people, and that’s exactly why she was so beautiful. She wasn’t even that kind of “beautifully imperfect”, she was human. But to me, she was all I could ever imagine. Like two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl. That's what we were. When I looked at her, if I looked in her eyes, I saw honesty, trust, and safety. She was nothing, but she was everything.
I guess that's why I've come to think about her right now. I mean, we left on incredibly detached and cordial terms. We didn't have a "past", we'd just drifted. And eventually I moved away, soon after which we lost contact. But really, we'd drifted apart years ago already. To each other, we were relics of life phases long extinct. We were no longer relevant to one another. And I don't regret it. It was both our doing (or not-doing), and that's just how life is. Life changes.
Still, I'm now missing that closeness. I miss the warm knowledge that someone really would be interested in every sordid detail I could think up. I'm starting to worry that I missed out on my one true love four years ago. Can closeness like that come with just friendship? I guess I'm a romantic deep down, really.
I always really was listening to what she had to say, or at least I'd like to think I was. I know she listened when it counted. We had that kind of unashamed honesty and trust you hear about in movies, even if we didn't have screenplay-worthy lives. She wasn't anything special or uniquely different in a way no one else was, but she was everything to me. And now I sit, far from her with only memories as explanations, wondering how someone so ordinary could have filled so much of my life, could have made such a huge impact on someone else equally as ordinary.
A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. I've marked this as a one-shot, but I'm thinking about continuing it. I don't actually have any plot ideas for it, but I feel a little too attached to it to just leave it. So please leave a comment. If I get enough, I'll just have to think of something to continue it with ;D
And constructive criticism is VERY welcome :)
She always complained that she never had any nicknames, so I gave her one. Once we actually started to get to know each other, after she had at some point mentioned this to me, I always called her Em. Well, first it was Annie-M, in reference to her last name, but I shortened it to Em.
We would talk so much. She really was a significant part of my world, but like so many things in my life, like everything it seems at times like this, she just faded out of my life. I guess she wasn't any different than my disposable interests and distracted goals.
I guess you could say I was in love with her, but it's all just too hard to define. I relished and treasured our closeness. For a long time I really felt that she was the only person I could tell everything and anything at all. And I would know if she wanted to talk seriously. She would say, "Hey Evelyn?" But she would say it entirely too casually. Sometimes she would call me "Ev", sometimes it was dumbass, sometimes even my full name. But for a long time we really did tell each other everything. Every shameful secret, every fear, every indulgence. We just shared so much. I could get pretty swept up in it sometimes.
I could just get hopelessly lost in her eyes. It's not like she had such incredible eyes or anything, I'm not even going to claim that she was notably beautiful. She was normal, in all honesty. It might even be said that she had a little extra baggage if you want the truth of it. She never did lose those extra pounds she hated so much. Em was normal. She was ridiculously competitive and picky in some areas, though she never was so good at anything that she was really outstanding. In other areas, she could be annoyingly lazy and disorganized, sometimes she could be a narcissist and a martyr, and at other times she could be painfully realistic. It’s not like her faults made up her entire being or anything, she had her advantages too. She had a good sense of humor, she was a reliable place to place your trust, and she was always very careful to be sincere. What I mean is that she was flawed like every other human being on this earth, and I've always known and understood that.
But sometimes there are just those people you can connect to more easily than other people. For me, Em was one of those people, and that’s exactly why she was so beautiful. She wasn’t even that kind of “beautifully imperfect”, she was human. But to me, she was all I could ever imagine. Like two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl. That's what we were. When I looked at her, if I looked in her eyes, I saw honesty, trust, and safety. She was nothing, but she was everything.
I guess that's why I've come to think about her right now. I mean, we left on incredibly detached and cordial terms. We didn't have a "past", we'd just drifted. And eventually I moved away, soon after which we lost contact. But really, we'd drifted apart years ago already. To each other, we were relics of life phases long extinct. We were no longer relevant to one another. And I don't regret it. It was both our doing (or not-doing), and that's just how life is. Life changes.
Still, I'm now missing that closeness. I miss the warm knowledge that someone really would be interested in every sordid detail I could think up. I'm starting to worry that I missed out on my one true love four years ago. Can closeness like that come with just friendship? I guess I'm a romantic deep down, really.
I always really was listening to what she had to say, or at least I'd like to think I was. I know she listened when it counted. We had that kind of unashamed honesty and trust you hear about in movies, even if we didn't have screenplay-worthy lives. She wasn't anything special or uniquely different in a way no one else was, but she was everything to me. And now I sit, far from her with only memories as explanations, wondering how someone so ordinary could have filled so much of my life, could have made such a huge impact on someone else equally as ordinary.
A/N: Okay, so here's the deal. I've marked this as a one-shot, but I'm thinking about continuing it. I don't actually have any plot ideas for it, but I feel a little too attached to it to just leave it. So please leave a comment. If I get enough, I'll just have to think of something to continue it with ;D
And constructive criticism is VERY welcome :)