Optimism

What is different?

Twenty years have passed.

He has developed an intuitive sensitivity that comes only from self-reflection and meditation. As a result, he seems kinder and gentler. I wonder if he is even aware of it. 

I am not a believer in anything supernatural. I think spirituality is a psychological path, but I don't think that makes it any less meaningful. What some call "psychic power" results from practice not magic. When friends are tuned in to one another, it feels psychic.  My friend hasn't been on FB  for months, and we haven't been in touch for at least that long. And yet, immediately after I mention his name on Facebook and he emails me. 

Several times today, my friend made some startlingly precise observations.  In a poem dashed off in fifteen minutes, he made me feel good about my laugh. He doesn't know how many times I've been reminded to tone it down these last years, that my laugh is jarring and obnoxious. With one word he drew out my dark burden, not secret, though private: Scars: last time they talked they didn't exist. If only he knew.

I think he does know in a way, I suspect that his path may have detoured radically between our then and this now. I realize I don't really know. I've only heard things here and there--bits of gossip. I wonder what he's heard of my path. I find I have so many questions.

Is it true? Were you drinking again? I've never seen you that way. What happened to the girl, the one you left sweet notes for while we went to Oregon. They were written in lipstick on the mirror, on post-its placed strategically around the apartment. "you are already beautiful" written on the vanity. I imagined her waking up to see it the next morning and how good it would make her feel. (I copied this gesture years later for my ex. before I left for a conference).

What got you back on track? I never doubted you. I always had such high expectations of you, the gossip only confused me. Isn't it strange, that our relapses and lows have been so absolutely unconnected? It used to seem purely circumstantial that we never saw each other that way. Still,  I felt your pain, I thought you might be lost. Who knows, perhaps there was little truth in it.  You seem to be where you should be now. 

Did I mention, I haven't been running since September? I've been in a rut, doing nothing but work. Even though I'm not at the very top of my game right now, do you know how far off track I got? Did you recognize how lost I was when we bumped into each other at that gas station? I  kept the book you gave me until the last time (of a series of 4-5) I moved, lost everything or just started over. I didn't like the book, but I loved the poem. "Two brown eyes. Full of hope." That's what I remember.  
Although maybe I am mixing it up with one you wrote for Jen. 

Today, with our heads together, even while on different coasts, I think we were good for each other. Anyway, he inspired me to be a better person.

And that is what is the same.