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The official shrine of Tim's e-peen.

Posts tagged enemies

To be quite honest, I think a lot. Probably more than most. I think retrospectively, prospectively; I think about now. I have this habit of analyzing everything. I’ve been this way since I can remember. In fact, I’ve had a recurring dream for about 20 years of my life:

It's kinda like this, I think.

I’m in a monochrome sandbox. As I’m sitting in this sand box, I see a shovel and a pail. They’re sitting in the sandbox with me; the shovel, resting itself on top of the pail, like a pair of hashi (chopsticks) resting over a bowl of ramen or rice. I never pick up the shovel or the pail. I just stare at it. And that’s it.

When I wake up, I instantly know it was that dream. It doesn’t matter if I sleep for 7 hours or 7 minutes, the dream is exactly as is, every time, like a residual haunting. I’ve analyzed this dream so many times, yet I still don’t know what it means. There’s just too many possibilities. It reminds me of Inception‘s “limbo” state (Inception was a fantastic movie, by the way). However, I digress from the main idea of this post.

Yesterday, I re-met a friend, and it’s been on my mind for a few hours now. It wasn’t my preferred in-person, 1-on-1 type of meeting, however. We met while playing Starcraft 2 online, which might seem kind of lame. Regardless, an encounter is an encounter. As we talked, however, it became increasingly surprising to me how much distance didn’t exist between us. We talked about where we were in life, and provided numerous single sentence summaries of the years that had passed in between then and now. You see, we used to be close friends. However, due to the clique-iness of high school, a certain girl, and numerous events that occurred back then, we gradually grew apart until we became enemies weren’t friends anymore.We played aggressive pranks on each other, trash talked each other, and pretty much lost respect for each other. I must say, I hate drama.

Zoom back to today.

A Starcraft 2 representation of high school drama.

I felt feel very strange about the whole thing. When I think about it, the whole situation seems to be evidence that time does heal, assuming there was ever any injury at all. I don’t know how, but for some reason, it’s like we never had that tension between us at all. Perhaps the tension was all in my mind? Yet, I recall him showing the same signs of distaste towards me in high school that I displayed towards his clique. Regardless, I like to think we grew out of it. I admit, I don’t talk to most of my high school friends anymore. I mean, while I do hang on to a few friends who have been very dear to me over the years, I rarely, if at all, talk to even a fraction of the friends I once had in high school. When I reflect upon and analyze my relationships in general, I notice that I put very little effort into maintaining old friendships.  While some may see this as lazy and downright anti-social, I realize that in doing so, I indirectly filter my relationships that I’ve developed over the years. I notice that those relationships that were founded on small talk, class conversation, “fitting in,” and overall fake-ness withered and died rather quickly. The relationships that were forged through sincerity and honesty, however, were the ones that persisted.  I can confidently say, “Hey, I actually care about my friends.” Those who really know me can attest to that; they know how much I care.

Currently, I think it’s safe to say that my long lost buddy and I are still friends, despite a turbulent past. We’re not enemies, we’re not rivals, and most importantly, we’re no long peer-pressured into that clique-esque mindset; we’re older now, with our own independently driven and rational minds. We’re different, but at the same time, I feel an old familiarity; an old feeling that’s reminiscent of that monochrome sandbox in my dreams that  I re-analyze time and time again as the years go by. It’s hard for me to explain, but it’s like leaving a house and coming back to it years later. The outside looks the same, but when you enter it, it’s not the house you remember. In fact, it’s completely different. It’s not a bad change, however, but rather quite the opposite; a change for the better.

Finally, during this moment’s final retrospective thought, I ask myself a simple question, in an attempt to connect a past me with a present me:

Would I ever give my enemies old acquaintances another chance?

Surprisingly, yes. I think I would. And the best part? I feel like a better person simply because I can.

Oh, and by the way, today’s my mom’s birthday. Happy birthday, Mom. 🙂