Thursday, June 23, 2011
A Different Crop
But then I grew up. High school days are but a distant memory now, those people ghosts, shadows which sometimes flit across the expanse of memory, and then melt again into the greyness of distance - Time's signature for forgotten souls. I knew you would become one of them. You said otherwise, but I knew. It's because I know me, and I used to know you. We weren't the type to cultivate something when it grew out of reach. And we have grown in different directions now, have we not? Still, I feel that I could bend in the breeze and touch you, bringing you back into the life from which you have not completely disappeared, but I'm not sure I want to. We were what we were, but I don't miss you anymore.