Really Growing Up

I went to a wedding yesterday, it was for a childhood friend I've known forever. We were never close and we don't keep in touch since I left the church but we were from a group that were of the same age and grew up together every weekend that we saw each other. It was a lovely ceremony, there were lots of people there and lots of love in the bride and groom's eyes. I like going to weddings, I like seeing us all grow up and start our own lives.

Since leaving my childhood church I've lost contact with a lot of good friends. Sometimes I miss them, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I miss all the fun we had and other times I think about how much of an outcast I was with the parents because I was different. Memories are like a kaleidoscope, different pieces come up everytime you think back. It's a wonder how much can be forgotten, remembered and forgotten again until the next time the tube spins and the pieces fall together again.

One person I saw yesterday brought up a whole slew of memories. He's 2 years older than me, a real Casanova back in the day. We'll call him Jack. Growing up during the teenaged years was all about having fun and flirting. I didn't usually take all that seriously because I knew it wasn't real, nobody falls in love at the age of 14. Even so, the bantering between friends is fun enough, and this way nobody gets jealous coz we're all doing it. Jack was a ladies' man, he looved flirting and hooking up with girls and having girlfriends and giving the "do me" eyes and making girls want him. He thought he was God's gift to the female race and could have anyone he wanted. He used to tell me quite often that if I was just a year older....

I was always like, whatever. I liked him but I didn't like like him.

So when we made eye contact yesterday after 5 (?) years, we smiled at each other and said hi. Well, actually, I smiled and he gave me the Jack-patented "do me" eyes. It didn't faze me, in fact I actually felt sad for him. There I was with Mr. Stinky by my side and there he was sitting all alone. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being single, he just looked... alone. We tried to strike up a conversation but it wasn't the same as when we were kids. There was no connection and it quickly ended, but not before I asked how he was doing and he said something like, "Oh, I'm hanging in there..."

What does that mean? Is he in trouble? Is it the "line" now? Am I horrible to not inquire further? Whatever the case, we left not long after that and by then I suppose he had meandered somewhere else to catch up with others. It doesn't matter, all I know is that when I think of Jack from now on I'll have imprinted in my mind the memory of him sitting by himself and trying too hard to impress. Still.