Time passes, people grow and change. This inevitability gnaws on us, on our continued existence. Those others we played with in childhood will not be the same innocent, fun, childlike beings we knew them as if encountered later in life. And yet we are expected to converse with these once 'friends' as if we are familiar with them, with their lives, with anything about them. When in fact we know nothing other than the playfulness of a child, the attitudes and wonder of an innocent mind. Was *I* ever that innocent? I cannot recall. I remember knowing too much, thinking too much. Not being comfortable with my peers, finding companionship in those whose job it was to be superior, aloof, to teach. I don't recall having playmates as such, none that were ever close. Maybe once or twice, but I also recall Stormy taking over and me being pushed out of the friendship. Vague memories, mostly not even half remembered, only knowing because I was told it happened.
*sigh* And my ruminations are interrupted by an active and anxious Amethyst.
Laters