Times Past

I'm a sentimental person. I've always known that, it's just the way I am.

I have a special necklace. I bought it not just because I liked it, but to also remind me of a far away place, and of dear friends who live there. Other than liking it, that purpose was tied to it as well. Something happened, and my mind's portraits of those people had to change. My necklace now serves to remind me of what I thought they were, which turned out to be wrong. That doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter that my perception of them was not correct. Every now and then, I will remember, and I will hold on to that memory, because it makes them better people than what they actually are. I don't care that I was wrong, I'd rather remember them, and value the role they played in my life, this way, even if it means I'm lying to myself about what they were and about how long they lied to me.

I'm not going to detail what happened. Every now and then, I still have to wrap my mind around it. I learned they had formed an unfavorable opinion of me and, rather than giving me the benefit of the doubt by talking to me about what they thought and felt, they assumed that I meant something hurtful and never made a move to verify or correct that assumption.

These people only spend time with each other. They told me that, on many occasions. I think they forgot how to be social with other people, and I think that's why they were more comfortable thinking that someone could mean to hurt them instead of thinking that they just perceived it the wrong way and talking about it. They may have lost my friendship, but they've earned my pity.

I think it's good that they get along so well with each other, since they have lost the skill of getting along with other people. It gives me comfort to know they will have each other when they can't hold on to anyone else.

Now, my necklace, which is also pretty and I like it, reminds me that I loved them then, what I thought they were. And it reminds me of what they really are, and their inability to love anyone else. There's no sadness there, only memory, and a little bit of hope that the next time they try to be a part of humanity, they can learn how.