Steal my kisses...

Spending time searching the past can be a worthwhile endeavor, it can also be scary, powerful and moving. The lessons of our past are often overlooked, yet buried in our subconsious to be pulled upon later in the disguise as a "gut feeling". When you spend too much time looking back it's easy to get blindsided in the present.

Lately I have been in contact with a lot of people from my past. It's a strange situation. So many people I have been thrilled to hear from. Like "F". She was in my French classes in high school, and I always really liked her. She is amazingly friendly in addition to being smart, kind and interesting. I have loved hearing about her life now as an adult - and as a mother. I remember those first months with my first baby and the wonder of it all.

I've also heard from "T" who was a good friend of mine from elementary school on. It's funny to me how many times over a decade our lives twisted into each other - and still continues to another decade later. She's also a mom to 3 and in touch with some of our mutual friends.

There have been a half dozen more in the last couple weeks. It's great to hear from people and to find out where their lives have taken them.

This all leads me to finding "K". K is someone I loved very much during my high school and early adult years. He is the one person that stood between Dan and I several times in our relationship. K was really the first guy I ever "dated" (you can't really call it dating but for lack of a better word that's what we'll go with) that didn't exhibit the traditional male behavior. He was affectionate, kind and not afraid to show he was interested. There were no games. He liked me and made sure I knew it. He romanced me. He played me beautiful music that made me happy. It was the first time someone really "courted" me. The circumstances of how we met and the first weeks we spent with each other allowed for a very intense, deep connection that was incredibly difficult to break with even time and the 2,000 miles that separated us after that initial couple of weeks together.

There were letters. Lots of letters. More that that there were mixes sent (remember cassettes???) back and forth. I can remember spending hours deciding on exactly what to put on his tape. I remember reading miles into each lyric on the ones he sent me.

Seeing his smile and hearing from him a decade later has had a profound affect on me. It's not that I want to go back. It's not even that I regret my decision (choosing Dan). It's just that there has always been a little shimmer of "what if". What if I had gone to that college? What if I had ultimately chosen long distance over the convenience of a local boyfriend? Where would my life have led? Who would I be? Would I be happy? It's not regret. Regret indicates that I wish I had made a different choice. This is more a matter of curiousity.

Have you ever reestablished friendships from your past?