"Rip Van Winkle"

Ten years ago, we could have smiled and it would have been all right. We would have been happy, I think – at least as happy as friends/acquaintances/whatever-we-were could have been. Every day was filled with its own brand of laughter; and we would toss those little smiles into the backseats of our minds, like half-forgotten beach equipment, flecks of sand still clinging to the sides.

But then came that inevitable fork in the road, and we both decided (were fated? destined?) to follow our own paths. They diverged into a great distance, like a yawn that draws out sleepily into a lavender dusk. Our steps were eager at first, as we ran to greet whatever Great Things we hoped to find – love, success, happiness, fame, fortune —Something. And then as we ran and searched and didn't find and ran some more and searched some more and still didn't find, we began to tire and our youth fled us and then we were left these old, empty tired things with dragging feet and yellowed laughs flecked with grains of sand.

Who would have thought?

I wonder where you are now; how you look, how I would look to you. Have your tastes changed? Do you still like the same things, talk the same way, walk with that same easy teenage nonchalance? I doubt it, but I can't imagine you any other way. It would be a little too heartbreaking, I think, to see you any differently.

It's terrible and strange. Driven by this morbid curiosity, I want to see you; but I don't want to see you, knowing that nothing good will come of it. I'm afraid of who we've all become, these ugly and warped shadows of people we used to be, bitter and cynical beings with wrinkles and leathery skin. I'm afraid to disturb those precious distilled memories of adolescence, so beautiful and young. Our hooded eyes now would ruin that beautiful gold reflection.

I wish I were Rip Van Winkle in reverse, with a magical ball of yarn that would wind back the time to those days, the days when we could still smile and things would be all right.

just a random sort of musing piece, not sure where it originated from.