Beneath my aloof exterior, I always find it in my heart to thank the people whom at different stages in my life I had once been really close to. I feel that way because I could no longer last having conversations with old friends in the present. Some friends are all about themselves and when they decide it’s my turn to share stories, I cannot escape the thought that they still think they’re talking to the same naïve 16- or 20-year-old they used to know. It’s not cute and it’s far from flattering.

In some others I would experience another pet peeve – every time I run into them in a local shop they’d ask the same question as if on autopilot, Why haven’t I decided to settle down? They’ve equated smart girls with higher chances of getting a presentable partner. It’s like predicting that all who graduated at the top of the class would have easy access to the throne at the club of the affluent. My old friends and acquaintances unconsciously find ways for me to deliberately avoid them.

Word goes around quick in a smaller world like where I live in. I would subsequently hear updates from friends of friends of friends. When it all gets awkward face to face, I resort to a quirky way to stay updated. We are all responsible for information we publish online. I once did this recently out of the blue with a friend’s Instagram account. Easy peasy when the account is set to public.

Although I couldn’t stand chatting with her online for the reason that we’ve lost touch, have grown apart, and took different spiritual life paths, I felt happy for the positive turns her life has taken for the past few years. She deserves all of it and Saturn has rewarded her perseverance. I don’t always agree with how a pious Christian like her ascribes her success (because, really, it’s all a combobulation of stuff they deem inexplicable but which has already been revealed in the blueprint they carry at birth). Ay, there’s the rub.

Though I know I’ll never ever lose affection
for people and things that went before,
I know I’ll often stop and think about them.

– In My Life, Bette Midler