A simple derailment in a breakfast conversation changed the course of my Monday. My Tuesday. My Wednesday. My week. My month, maybe (probably) more? Growing up is hard. We've discussed this. I've parted ways with just about everybody I've ever known. It's rarely been amicable, but for those cherished souls who sort of flickered faded away without some violent fanfare, they're tucked away into an everlasting corner of my heart. We're living in different cities, time zones, coasts, counties. We rarely speak. Not for any specific reason other than the fact that we just don't. We go on with our lives. We chase our dreams, we try to make our way in the world without ending up loathing ourselves entirely, and someday, we will die. Some pass on sooner than others. When it happens, it's tragic. It's inevitable. But that doesn't make it any better.
