Can I move on???????

Have you ever felt that you have to do something before your life CAN really move on?

This is how I feel and have been feeling for the past year. It feels that nothing satisfies me nor inspires me. I know exactly what I must do; but I am afraid. Afraid? Yes, afraid.

What am I afraid of? What may come? No, that’s impossible for the worst is here. Should I run? No, I’ve been running and hiding my whole life. What is it that I’m afraid of? People? No, myself. What have I done? Lots.

I sit here perched on the edge of my bed, with Nora Jones playing in the background and with faint smiles drifting across my face, as I sift through all my old photographs. Something I haven’t done in quite some time. I had them stored away in a box to not remind me of my past. Not a photograph was in sight. Memory lane was trapped. Hidden. Disguised.

I dig down into all the old memories. I hold each memory briefly in my hands before dropping it onto the pile in my lap and searching for the next happy moment to remember. Each picture evokes feelings long gone, but deep within me. I’m not exactly sure what has provoked this sudden journey to my past, perhaps it was that quote. What quote? The two quotes I carry with me in my wallet. They were buried in the rubble of receipts, but I knew they were there. Why? They carry a significant meaning, a memory.

As I continue to relive the memories, I can’t help but notice one photo in particular buried deep in the box. I plunge in to retrieve it from the sea of snapshots and hold it in my hands. The picture is lovely. Well centred, captures a great moment. It was of three people. As I focus in on the people, the warm smile that covers my face is replaced by an agitated frown. It was two girls and I. These two girls meant a lot to me. I respected and appreciated them. A terrible pang of regret flashes through me, and I feel the familiar constriction in my throat.

One event happened after another. And our friendship declined. A simple crack flourished. It was all gone. Why? Me. I tried to make excuses for not keeping in touch that summer. I couldn’t visit, too busy,…I used every excuse possible. I knew that was not the answer, but I was too nervous to pick up the phone and call. One day the phone rang as I was leaving for work. I stopped and answered. It was she. Who? The girl. She spoke and noted that I wasn’t a friend. Was that true? Yes. She said that she didn’t know me and everything is different now. How? Things happen. Why didn’t you call? She asked. Could I have told her? NO. Why? I didn’t know. Why? Fear. Was I being foolish? Yes. I could have trusted her. Why was I afraid? I didn’t know then. I do now.

Well, school started again in the fall and we tried to mend things. We went to classes, completed reports, and spoke on occasion. Things were hard. They weren’t the same. Was she right? NO, I didn’t want to believe it. What would I do? Run? Yes. School ended. We graduated. No more notes were passed behind the teacher’s back, no one understood the inside jokes. Before I had a chance to patch the crack between us, she moved back home to her old friends, and so did I. The crack between us quickly became an uncrossable rift.

Over the years the rift became too large to bridge. They had left and taken a huge chunk of my heart with them.

I stand up and stretch my cramping limbs. Pulling myself back now, I let the picture fall from my hand onto my cluttered desk. I glance back into the box. I see something. What was it? I bend down to grab it. It was an old birthday card I had made for them and never sent it. I look up at my calendar and remember the date. It was a long way away. I opened the card. What did it say? The same two quotes I had in my wallet. Strange? No, it was meant to be. Was this all a sign? I don’t know. We started so close, and ended up so far.

What do I miss most? I miss the friendship dinners.

Am I strong enough to build a bride?