Seeing old friends
Before my eyes I have aged into the category where I have ‘old friends’
And get socks for Christmas
And I watched slowly as everyday on the trampoline after school deteriorated into FaceTime calls between classes and two time zones
But once a year we break our texting silence
And burry ourselves into a cracked red leather booth in the dimmer corner of a cheap Japanese food restaurant
That they know so intimately about my hardwiring they’re never thrown off by a software update
In a way I feel closer when we’re farther because for that one night at a sushi bar we pour our souls out
Everything we’ve been keeping in to tell someone that is equally intimately understanding of us and somewhat a stranger
About our parents and our relationships our new apartments and jobs and what we’re going to do in the summer
The waiters give us kind smiles,
Some of them are new faces but we recognize the one we left a 20$ with last time because despite the degrees and the sciences we can’t figure out math
I’ve become comfortable quicker than most people with the understanding that not everyone is forever in my life
And sometimes it’s easier to let go without the claw marks
draw myself back,
issue a merry Christmas or a happy birthday but treat them like a relative you don’t see and don’t plan on seeing very much
So the old friends that always show up to laugh in hushed tones across the table from you at a dimly lit sushi restaurant are my favorite
About the Creator
AJ
Because locking myself in a dimly lit house on the seaside and feverishly pouring my soul out on a typewriter is not available to me right now
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.