I haven't written here in so long that as I read previous entries, I'm confronted with feelings, hopes, losses and fears that seem long in my past, but in reality stand only 3 years away at most. It's amazing, really. When the local DJs have names like JoJo and Mudflap the world is rooted in a horrifying simplicity.

I saw a dear old friend, an old love, a few weeks ago. I wasn't devastated, not how I thought I'd be at finally seeing her again. We were cordial, and even enjoying each other's company. I can't help but still feel surprised by that, given the way things ended, the ways that I built her up in my head into this 100 foot tall, insanely beautiful deity. Instead of feeling compelled to fall at her feet and worship what I believed was perfection, I was caught in an overwhelming wave of confidence, consciousness. We're both still us, strangely, and not us at the same time. Whatever she appears to me can't possibly have much bearing on what she's really like now. So much time has passed since I wrote about taking a shower with her, loving her, wanting her desperately to return to my arms. Her world is definitely, inarguably different now. As is mine. Though we may populate neighboring zip codes, our minds, bodies and souls are traveling on different planes than before. Sadness comes with that, if only for the sake of nostalgia, but excitement too.

I'm frustrated that I still think of her. That I wonder why I didn't push her toward what we both needed, content to keep her as she was, when she was so unhappy. I guess I used to call it love, but now I see the error of my ways. I should have... oh, but why consider "should'ves?" There is nothing to be gained through these, not really.

ATONEMENT was an exceptional book, and a quality film. It captures the gossamer threads that connect people even when they can't seem to understand each other, or speak to each other at all. The most sad part of these two versions of McEwan's masterwork is that these misunderstandings in life, in love, in time, all spell utter and complete destruction for the characters we are meant to love. I'd like to say that the fictionality of the book/movie makes it less realistic. If only that were true. It seems that not hearing what you need to, not saying what you want or should can destroy everything. That's not fiction, not this time.

And although the tone of this entry is dark, even uninspired, there's nothing to worry about. This life is grand. I'm just not the great communicator I used to be, apparently.