A friend came out of the closet today. Admitted to a piece of something that could throw people off guard.
I am usually not on guard around this friend.
What was said was not bothersome. But I was disappointed for some reason. Not in a judgmental way. But more so about myself.
It is his life. Isnt it? So why should it disappoint me? I felt like I realized an alien portion of me in me today.
Recognition. Awareness. That I am me. And only me. Many others make transient memories but they all are a part of the past. If we take a slice of only the "present" it is just me. And no one else.
His admission should have give me clarity about him. But it just made life more poetic.
How does it feel like when you know you were an active part of his past?
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