Here we go.
Several months ago I dipped my toe in the waters of Facebook. I registered at the request of some college friends as a way to stay in touch. At that time I wasn’t familiar with the ins and outs of Facebook (I guess I’m still not) and so months went by where I didn’t ever pay any attention to it.
It seems that in the last month or so I have fully boarded the Facebook bandwagon. I’ve spent a good deal of time looking up people to re-establish contact (if you can call it that) and get updates (if you can call them that) about how they are doing. I have been generally successful in finding friends from my past and “re-connecting”. Making those original discoveries sent me into a tailspin of nostalgia.
So on a quiet Sunday afternoon while all the boys napped I dove headfirst into memories. I opened up my green trunk that contains all my memorabilia from childhood up to marriage. (Approximately.) I especially focused on one box. This box contains letters written to me during a period of ten months while my family lived in Virginia. After reading through these letters I am convinced that a movie could be made from them, from my perspective of the drama and desperation of a group of 15 year old girls at Fairmont Junior High.
So after reading many of them for the first time in years, and pretty much laughing myself silly all alone there in the playroom, I plunged further into reminiscence. So I went back to facebook. I looked at the ‘walls’ of these my jr. high friends. And…
I am left completely unsatisfied. So dear readers, I am in need of your feedback. I need to know…
Is it normal and healthy for me to want to reestablish REAL friendships again with these, now women, spread out across the country? Is it even possible? Have our paths diverged too far?
Am I a pathetic loser unwilling to let go of the past and move on, finding satisfaction in new friendships? Because, chances are, that my dear friends have already done so?
****Comments are back, for now, by necessity. I know the term ‘pathetic loser’ is a little harsh, but please, be honest.****