by Alex Nana-Sinkam, ‘13
Did you ever expect that high school reunions would be- instead of nerve racking, exciting, fad diet inducing, inspiring, memorable- disappointing?
It’s something I’ve been worrying, and thinking, about a lot lately. Best friends from past chapters often carelessly keep their title, regardless of whether today, conversations fall flat and inside jokes are sundry but only when in reference to all the things you did, the times you had, the thoughts that used to pass like grey matter with no use for words because that’s just how tight you knew you’d always be.
When do you decide that a connection has had its run? Is now sodden, weighed down by moments spent searching for conversation, watered down by empty small talk. When do you reconcile having conversations about the person you used to have all your conversations about everyone else with? Basically, what happens when you start to feel like strangers?
For some reason, lately I’m really hung up making sense of this specific mood I’ve been catching myself in. The sadness, I’m realizing, isn’t really born from losing a person, or a friend, or even the connection; I’m confident my life will be full of these. It’s more about losing the feeling you had with those people, in those times, that person, that place, that goddamn smell. The way these memories felt can’t be duplicated. Their lost specificity is an acute misery.
Recently, I glance at people passing through my life and find myself trying to guess whether they will cost me lost feelings. Are they in me for the long run, will they mark my life with bright and sustainable colors. Or maybe we’re grey. We’ve missed the mark, mutually, with each other. You’d be surprised by how easily time, summers away from home, a semester or two abroad, 1 phone call a year instead of each month, will wash away pigment.
Alex is a Senior studying International Relations, minoring in African Studies and (fingers crossed) Art Studio Photography.