Intricacies of a Past

"It's no good trying to keep up old friendships. It's painful for both sides. The fact is, one grows out of people, and the only thing is to face it" - W. Somerset Maugham

It is the heart, the blood pumping through the veins of literature, that allows us to be startled into new, and sometimes confusing, emotions. We are confronted with outlooks and stances angled towards new personal discoveries, or by a focus we never took the time to observe. I have taken to begin my entries from this point forward with a poignant quote, as, so aptly put by the gentleman above (genius, mind you),"Anyone can tell the truth, but only very few of us can make epigrams." And, it is with such succinct grace that a new line of thought is born, and what a gift that costs not a thing!

Is what begins this passage indeed true? Are contacts forged and folded into who we believe we are simply passing fodder for murky memories in flickering half lit corners of our minds? It is implausible for anyone to think, after years of life experiences, that someone who knew you prior would understand you now. Too much passes. Love has warmed or chilled your bones with traced fingers both kind and fickle. Death climbs into view and leaves indelible, permanent marks. Monotony wears the threads of our being and pushes and pulls, fraying the fabric in all too different ways.

In a sense, Mr. Maugham is right. Accomplices in our formative years are never seen in the same glowing light, or even the petty spite that is generated from perceived slights, however grandiose at the time. Extended absences leave an uneasy emptiness to the renewed conversation, a subtle hole where once was something so familiar. There is more to this concept than the awkwardness of an old acquaintance come back into view. Age and the passing of time, its precious nature as a commodity growing ever more valuable as we have less and less to spend, plays a vital role. People fall in and out of favor with one another faster than the trends of fashion. This stems from the wisdom of age, one might say, but more so with the urge to not waste one's time with waste.

Maybe Bob Harris (aka, the incomparable Bill Murray) said it best in Lost in Translation (2003):

"...The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you."

There lies the lynch pin (in reality, to more than just relationships). A very potent analysis of how we age. As the sand falls, we remove ourselves from those that we deem unworthy of the most valuable of human possessions: time.

Think of who you have in your life, even those bonds of blood, and look at the ebb and flow of the care and contact that comes with the years. Now, partake in an even more taxing test: the intoxicating drug of love. Those who stand by it, and who have wandered their way into it (as it must surely be chance when bombarded with the sheer numbers), must be of the most blessed (or cursed?) order. Or the hardest working. Maybe the most tolerant?

"We are not the same persons this year as last; nor are those we love. It is a happy chance if we, changing, continue to love a changed person." - W. Somerset Maugham