Many years ago, so long ago that it seems like just yesterday, my best friend moved to a different town. While the move was just physical in nature, and our friendship was no less stronger or weaker for it, I felt like a piece of me had gone away for good. On the drive back from the airport I cried all the way home. I do not really know the exact reason for the flood, but it ran its course and more. A friend, riding shotgun, tried to console me telling me that as the tears shed I would feel better.
Years have gone by but it has not gotten any better. I miss not being able to turn around and speak my innermost thoughts as they occur to me. There is something artificial about reaching out to someone through a telephone. Something indelible was inexplicably erased that day but it had nothing to do with our friendship. In this instance, out of sight is definitely not out of mind, but it is a whole lot worse than being in the person's presence.
I have been in one place for a long time, surrounded by a transient group of friends who have acquired skills needed to join the work force and move on. Repeatedly I am reminded of Lord Tennyson's words:
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
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