OLD JOURNAL ENTRY: Oh, but I can’t read your mind

I used to be very good at reading minds especially when I know the person all too well. My instincts were always spot on and I felt like I had this bizarre superpower to be able to phone someone in despair at the right time without warning. At the same time, I felt that I was tough enough to act as a sick bag (your verbal vomit is safe with me!) and cheeky enough to point out what I thought was wrong. Or what I thought that person would do. I used to be able to muster up some sort of bull that actually made a bit of sense in a blink – and that was good enough for the time being until friend in case needed my sick bag service again.That changed when I moved. The whole “I’m off to England” shebang brought forth several issues that I forgot to deal with myself. Suppose you can say I’ve been selfish for a while and I had to spit and swallow my own deal. I’ve strategically distanced (no pun here, seriously) myself from everything and everyone until I got my groove back. I felt better and by all means I was ready to pack myself up in a shiny spangly box labeled “Your Friendly Sick Bag, Improved!”. It wasn’t exactly as great as I thought, because I still felt a bit.. detached. It’s not that I don’t care because I really do. It’s just that I feel so far already.

I guess I forgot to remember that people change as you do, and that the distance you impose can grow twice as fast as you think (with the exception of several friends who know you too well and vice versa). Perhaps that’s why I get so frustrated sometimes, because as I remain 9000++ miles away from the friends I care about most, I still expect to know a lot when I myself have not been talking. Maybe I didn’t have to be the receiving end at all times – relationships are only great on a give and take basis after all. Maybe I should’ve said something as well. Unfinished business remains unfinished and closure may be hard to find. You can’t just expect things to be the same as they once were because sporadic fits of déjà vu will never bring the past any justice. And no superpower can let you fully understand someone you haven’t seen in ages. That’s a shame, really. But I still wish I could read minds.

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