Say no to dead friendships. And horses
I couldn't say I waited for that day, but March 14th was Vlad's birthday. For the first time in eight years since I had sent him away because of several reasons I did have the technical opportunity to message him. I considered to type something simple like 'Happy birthday' but then I asked myself what kind of message was I trying to deliver to him? Did I want to say I remembered the date? Why if I broke up our friendship? Did I want to give a hint I was ready to stay in touch again? That's pathetic! What kind of keepintouching could I dare to offer after my own deliberate actions? Anyway I didn't write anything. To come back after eight years of silence does feel awkward, weird, and a little intrusive. Farewell. I don't know now why keeping my IG account.
Meanwhile Ivan keeps being friendly and chatty. He noted openly he considers us friends. That's nice. He's nice. I wonder which part of my affection is linked to him personally and which remaining percents are the aftermath of older failed attempts to make a friend. Out of nostalgia I visited the discord server where our little company was thriving. It was dead to the degree the last message there was the one sent by myself half a year ago. And that furry server where everything began in 2021... I didn't risk to enter there again. The English saying about dismounting from the dead horse is relatable here.
I keep fighting my weight and slowly, very slowly I come to the number I had back in 2018 when I finished university. It feels so refreshing to turn my tendency against the clock. I don't even miss most of the products I avoid now. Of all the sins I have committed before I miss only savouring buns.
Nowruz is coming. I wish peace for Iran.