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What a dream I had ...

We walk into a large, very fancy library. The kind of library which is supposed to look old and formal, but comes off looking new and pretentious ... complete with marble lions standing guard outside and a long, panoramic array of steps leading up to the library ... those very shallow steps that you could take four or five at time, except they're wide ... you could almost put two feet heel to toe before you reach the next step. And, of course, there's no visible wheelchair ramp.

I have a purpose for being at this library but since I am simply relating a dream, all I know is that there is a dream-logic to that purpose which fades away very quickly once we're inside. We have walked inside the library and around a center area whose floor is lower than the rest of this narthex. As we come in, we walk on the right side, past the area for checking out books. Before us are the large and ornate wooden doors which lead to the library proper. Before we can enter, I turn around and look down in that little "pit" in the center of all this marble tile. People are busily working on honestly old wooden tables, some with piles of books around them, some still beating on the keyboards of the computers to find the sources they need.

I stop dead in my tracks. It can't be. After all this time, some twenty years ... constantly wondering whatever happened ... why did she never get back in contact with me ... I'm seeing things, it can't possibly be her.

I'm down the steps in a heartbeat, rushing up to this person I haven't seen since the summer after high school. "Janet?" Another step. "Kyungah?"

She turns around and it's true. My illustrious locker partner, as I used to call her back in school.

She's a bit standoffish and tries to quickly direct my attention to other Lamar people I know who are also here. They are certainly people I know, but not as well as KK. I'm puzzled and hurt. All I can think is, "but you and I were friends ... I only know of these people." The wall remains despite having found Janet at last.

Most people I know can't wait to forget about high school. They stay connected with a few friends, but seem to try to put everything else completely behind them and move on. Except of course for those few who prefer to live in their "glory days" and constantly rehash all the wonderful moments.

I don't seem to fall into either category.

And yet I would love to still be friends with some of those folks, I regret losing contact with so many.

I suppose that because I often felt more at home at school than at home, I came to think of some of these people almost as siblings and favourite cousins than friends. I didn't expect that I would completely lose contact with them for so long ... and when I have caught up with them, we've had (for the most part) a single good conversation ... which fades into politeness. We don't really know each other anymore and apparently it's too much effort ... or it's too much a reminder of another time others would prefer remain forgotten ... and the effort at renewing friendship seems to fade clean away to a dream-state of a million yesterdays ago.

And yet, I can't quite let go of those old friendships.

I want to know what life has thrown them. I want to know that they are okay, they are happy, they are loved, they are content. I want them to know that there are those folks from "back in the day" who are rooting them on to meet their dreams, whatever they may be and however they may have changed over the years.

So this song has been running through my head today ... really, only the first line of the real song has anything to do with this at all ... but I've done what I used to do in high school all the time ... re-written it into something else. It's mushier than I would like, but not as mushy as the original song, so I suppose that's an improvement. (For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her - Simon & Garfunkel)

What a dream I had
dressed in fogginess
clothed in adrenaline
and wistful happiness
sweeter than the rain

I've wandered empty malls and
past the shop displays
I heard distant murmurs
floating through the hallways
as I walked on

and when we met again
your dreams changed as the night
you've walked on frozen streets and fields of daffodils
I remember then

And now look what you've become
(silence)
I wish you happiness
With my grateful memories
Oh I miss you all
Oh I miss you

(I told you it was mushy. Bah)

Posted by Red Monkey at December 7, 2007 11:17 AM | Storytelling: She was, of course, supposed to be sleeping. | | Stumble |

I can identify with this a bit.

It's not just that it sounds like you're describing the city library of my hometown, but with the relatively recent move back home, I'm surprised here.

Not that I run into people I know, but run into so few! I'm talking about a very small town, under 10,000 people, so I should know more than the 10 or so I've run into in the last 18 months.

This post really felt a lot like what happens when I go around my hometown now.

December 8, 2007 12:47 AM

Seeeeee the dream in a place full of?
hee hee...
I understand this...never went to a reuinion, dont plan on it. I miss some, okay very few. I keep in toouch with three.
One I work with,another we went to college to gether(She lives in your state) and the other we just did.

When I see the others I usually will do the avoid thing...i know me. eh.

anyhoo got me thinking

December 8, 2007 6:07 AM