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It's terrible to realize that I'll probably never see any of those people again.


Natalie. Jason. Craig. Ben. Tony. Leeanne. Caroline. Paul. The other 110 people I knew on sight. Some were acquaintances. Some were instant friends. But regardless of what they once were to me, they're all pretty much gone now.


I mean, I still talk to a handful of them. And it's not like I'm hurting for friends—I have a lot of good ones. A multitude here at the university, some at home, and a few around the country. I've also got the younger set. But that still doesn't replace the people I spent three hot, humid weeks with in Columbia.


It's a little melodramatic, I realize, to continue caring. The unceasing torrent of life washes us onward, and there's not much I can do about that. These things happen.


Still, we connected once, and I'm afraid we never will again. And for that, friends, I am sad.

- - -

"It won't hurt her, pal, because she ain't a loser. She will feel sad and she will cry for a little while because she's not afraid to cry when something that might have been beautiful dies, but she'll get over it, she'll lift right on above it."
—Richard Bach, The Bridge Across Forever

6:51 pm, June 26, 2005 :: erstwhile

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