As much as the constant stress drove me mad, I miss the days when I was always on the go--a party tonight, a show in Brooklyn the next, and then back home for 2 am coffee with whoever I was dating at the time--you were one of the longer ones, you know. (It was two weeks, not three. I remember. I remember things like that.) I miss feeling you up while you tried to wax philosophical, but more than that I miss those constant fleeting connections.
Fleeting isn't the word. Private? Personal? We do all our interactions in public, or public-adjacent now. Nobody stays up until the sun goes up chatting on instant messenger anymore, and that was, like, my jam. Entire relationships rose and fell on IM under my watchful eye. And yeah, people text or use Facebook or whatever, but the whole paradigm is different. No, now when we interact we interact in public, with the world to watch us.
(God, how did we ever think that the constant connection to everyone at all times would make us anything but lonely?)
I mean, I was an asshole back then, and part of me feels guilty for missing those days, but back then everything wasn't a performance. Which isn't to say I didn't spend all day every day performing for others, but there was a line between public and private then. You could take the mask off.
I even miss you. You were pretentious and it's a miracle we ever thought we liked each other, but we had some good times despite all that. Even in public you never seemed like you were performing, and I admired that. I still do, I guess, but it's a bit late for that now.
But yeah. I'm doing interesting.
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