OK, you know how it is. You do a lot of drugs, specifically amyl nitrate (otherwise known as “poppers,” which, according to the directions, are to be uncapped and left open so that the fumes can waft around the room but of course everyone ignores this and snorts the fumes directly into their brain cells), and you forget stuff. Large chunks of stuff. It’s not so bad.
You join Facebook. And people from your past—people who REMEMBER things—start contacting you. They remember YOU. And yes, you remember them, too, but vaguely.
Won’t you please share with me this blast from my past?
I remember you fondly cuz you accepted me for who I was during a time when I was really struggling w/an identity crisis and felt unaccepted or challenged by most. We ate lunch together most days and I came to your house a few times and hung out . . . had my first major stoned episode there on the couch and almost felt like I could fly away :0) while meanwhile couples were taking turns in the bedrooms. Yes, those were wild times and always in the background Led Zeppelin or Rush was boomin’.
OK, uh . . . I remember Led Zeppelin. And I do remember this girl, now woman, who was indeed my friend, but . . . damn, I just don’t remember the details. When I think of high school—at least the first two years—I have this shadowy collection of images: Roach-clip earrings. Wearing a guy’s ID bracelet. Strawberry-flavored rolling papers. Everyone hating me. Always wearing black. Feeling ugly and uncool. The smoking pit. Screaming matches with my mom. My boyfriend shooting himself in the head after I broke up with him. Hmmm. Such a weird, hazy time. Maybe I’m better off not remembering.
Hearing from this friend—wow. It’s nice to know that there was at least one person in high school who didn’t hate me. Later, during my junior year, I met a nice guy, got a job in a pizza restaurant, and actually started looking people in the eye again. I remember that.
In addition to messages from old friends, I’m getting notices about our 30-year high school reunion. I don’t think I’ll go. I probably wouldn’t remember anyone.
Heard from any old friends lately?