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- Modern 20 somethings. You move. You leave your friends behind. You send emails ending with "I miss you!" You have phone numbers in your cell phones. You move again. You leave more friends behind. You send more emails ending with "I miss you!" You have more phone numbers. Cities. City life. Old groups of friends get banded together. Group emails are sent, ending with "I miss you guys!" Plans to see each other again are made. Vegas, camping, whatever. You move again, city to city. These friends you collect like cards in a deck... was there anything of substance, ever? Do you really miss them? I miss them, or is it the life I miss. You move in order to prove true those Cinderella lyrics: don't know what you got till it's gone. Even though you've already learned that lesson five thousand times. This is the reason the Fates gave us seasons. Without the winter we wouldn't even notice the summer. I will sit here and miss you until I leave here. I will collect a new band of friends here without noticing or appreciating them until I leave. Then - then, I will miss them. I cannot believe that a year later I am still hung up on you like this. I cannot believe that, months and months after this time last year, I realized I loved you. I cannot believe that you are as retarded as you are, and as retarded as I am. I loved you for you, for your friendship, not for your nakedness. When was it? May? April? And how long since we'd been naked together? Months and months.
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