A couple of incredible lights from my past have recently re-emerged after not a small length of absence. And in both cases, I find myself completely aglow, revitalized, and tremendously excited. Certain people from the Old Days seem to carry with them with a corona of temporal memory, not soaked in nostalgia but rather in delight at the past and pride in the moment and at how far we’ve come. Reconnecting with special people like this is like sharing the most beautiful of inside jokes that only the two of you would understand, where the entire lineage of everything you’ve experienced together comes roaring back at once and you know that not a day of it was ever wasted, because it’s all still relevant. (What is that thing inside of me that sees ceased friendships and relationships as massive wastes of energy and time?!)

I haven’t seen Aaron in twelve years, but he is unequivocally the same wonderful man he always was. He is perhaps responsible for my current affinity for Scotland and a partial impetus for the academic path I’ve chosen in life. In many senses, we ‘grew up’ together and we watched each other develop in the kind of people we both wanted to be during a very important time of our young adulthood. He reeks of integrity and a slashes a wry grin with a devil-may-care attitude that makes you want to follow him, skipping, to the ends of the earth. Every meeting is full of both fun and of achingly relevant conversation. There’s never an argument, only stretching to see all sides of an opinion or situation, and the youthful idealism is still there, on his sleeve, on his tongue and in his smile, still infectious and charismatic. Back from eight years in Germany, it’s an honor and a pleasure to have him home, however long he’ll be back, and I intend to take full advantage of his proximity in the weeks ahead.

Aaron is a magnificent reflection of me, a deeply-missed inspiration and utterly wise sounding-board tempered by passionate ideal and romantic idyll.

I first lost Halsted when I moved to Edinburgh in 2003. Time and space and distance all converged to mangle and frustrate our breathtaking connection and it was the fear and apprehension and loneliness of eight thousand miles that made close communication an impossibility. We let it happen. Coming home didn’t heal the rift, especially when total deference for other people’s feelings and manipulative guilt is enforced from outside parties. Now we have the space in our lives to reconnect. She’s one of those people that lights up a room, with whom everyone falls immediately and deeply in love. We share a staggering number of the same ideals and interests, and I’m constantly in awe of her intelligence, articulation, taste, and wit. I’m no talker, and I get so deeply lost in conversation when we’re together that I walk into things. We fit so comfortably, and our friendship is terribly easy and so light; just being near each other is a charge of energy that is toe-curling and tranquilizing all at the same time. In whatever capacity we may exist, there’s no way I’m letting go of her again, and I’m aflutter with excitement about the possibility of the future.

Halsted is a bewildering reflection of me, a blossoming bud of art and poetry and warmth that makes me, by her example, examine myself carefully in order to be the best person that I can possibly be.

11 Responses to “Resurfacing.”

  1. pisica Says:
    July 2nd, 2007 at 1:00 pm

    Oh, that's good. You seemed awfully disappointed about losing touch with Halsted. (And I STILL have not met her! Grrr!)

  2. pisica Says:
    July 2nd, 2007 at 1:00 pm

    I mean, not since high school.

  3. FunkyPlaid Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 8:58 am

    Yah, it was a profound experience to both let her slip out of my life and to have her resurface again.

  4. tkil Says:
    July 2nd, 2007 at 10:02 pm

    six degrees of LJ
    Um. Is this Halsted == <lj user="cygnoir" />?
    Because, if so, damn… the Bay Area is way smaller than I thought it was. (Granted, my exposure is mostly through LJ, mostly initiated via <lj user="jwz" />'s correspondents, so some cross-hybridization is to be expected. But still.)

  5. FunkyPlaid Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 8:59 am

    Re: six degrees of LJ
    The one and same.
    Small Bay Area, indeed. I mean, you can't go out without running into someone you know or hate. 🙂

  6. gingiber Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 2:27 am

    So pleased you have been able to re-connect 😀

  7. FunkyPlaid Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 9:00 am

    Oh, Lara, she's been waiting to meet you and Seth for years. Expect some good times later this fall.

  8. eskimolimon Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 2:41 am

    Nice to see you back in circulation.

  9. FunkyPlaid Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 9:01 am

    Thanks for this. Getting out of the habit is terribly uncomfortable, and I always forget how good it is to get this stuff out, and to have communication with so many great people all over the world.

  10. hermiston Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 2:59 am

    Toe-curling and tranquilizing! You are lucky. I know you work hard to cultivate great friendships, I'm glad you've rediscovered mature ones. There is something about a piece of the past that finding you in the present that is so wonderful for all the memories and feelings it uncovers. I think of the movie Amelie, where the middle-aged man finds his wee box frae years syne and in an instant the pleasure and pain of childhood surges upon him. I look forward to the moments in my future where I can likewise enjoy such things.

  11. FunkyPlaid Says:
    July 3rd, 2007 at 9:09 am

    You're spot on, mate. That tenure of old friendships is perhaps the most rewarding because of those things you've seen together, and the experiences you've shared together. They reek of legitimacy because of their age and distinction, but perhaps that's just the historian in my waxing poetic. Your Amelie box analogy is perfecto, and precisely what it feels like – so well put!
    And I can also point out that I feel the same precise way when I see you after such long gaps in our meeting. That will only continue.

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