Two-Minute Meeting

LegacyUser

I met an old friend today. At the bus stop.

We hadn't met each other in a year, and even then it was just passing each other on the street. No words of affection, just a quick hello.

Today though, as I approached the bus stop I knew it was him, and looked forward to seeing a long lost friend again. But I quickly discovered something else. I knew we had drifted apart, but I never realised quite how far apart we really were.

He was hidden inside his coat, as if he didn't want anyone to see him. He complained about the cold, in spite of it not being a cold morning. We exchanged brief hellos, and then moved on to what were doing getting the same bus.

I was going to college. He was going to court.

Two people, who had crossed paths and become friends in school, had taken completely different paths in life. By pure happenstance our paths briefly crossed again, and I realised that even though we were going in the same direction, we were really going different directions.

When he asked me how I was doing, I realised how perfect my life was in comparison to others. I didn't have any major problems, I was financially stable, and life was generally good. I exchanged the story of my grandmother being in hospital as a compromise, not wanting to rub in how different we really were.

I couldn't even mention a mutual acquaintance who had recently died of a drug overdose. After all, the person I was standing beside likely had some hidden in his pockets as I spoke to him. I couldn't come across as a holier-than-thou preacher.

It's interesting how much thought you put into what ultimately takes up seconds of your life. Constantly calculating your next move for fear of the wrong word slipping out, with the wrong emphasis. It happens without thinking about it, even though you do think about it.

However I did see a spark of the friendship that was once there. When I told him my grandmother was well again, he seemed genuinely pleased. He did, after all, see here every time we hung out.

It was a glimmer of hope for the future.

As we stepped on the bus he moved to the back, while I stayed near the front. I realised we were physically closer than we'd been for a year, yet still so far away.