"I haven't seen you since '97." And he's right. I haven't seen him since 1997. I told him we should get together and have lunch or dinner or something, and play a game of "Where has the time gone?" Because it shocked me so much to realize that it's been that long, and it seems like yesterday that I saw him.
Can it really be eleven years? Monkey will be twelve tomorrow. And I've been out of high school for fifteen years, it says so on the framed piece of paper in my hallway. But it doesn't feelthat way. I don't feel that old. That much time just can't have passed, and seeing those words from an old friend startled me.
It always surprises me with things like that.
The truth is that I feel as though I slept my way through the last ten years, because in a very real way, I did. And now that I'm awake, and alive, and wanting desperately to have my life begin and do all the things I should have done, I want to embrace every part of the very rich opportunities that are right here for the taking.
I want to taste, and touch and feel everything, the way a woman who is in her early twenties does. Only that isn't the age I am, and it's incongruous to my physical age to be feeling the way I feel.
So I'll go, and I'll meet up with my old friend, and we'll sit and talk about old times, and the way it once was. And maybe I'll remember, and maybe I won't. And then I'll continue down this new road, walking along it some more, staring at the dusty road signs, and hoping the choices I'm making are the correct ones.
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