Being drunk and sentimental

Short Story

I caught up with an old friend the other night, at a small house party located nowhere important. We talked about old memories from middle school, reflecting on all the times we had spent together getting in and out of trouble. More often than not, our stories had recurring characters from both of our childhoods. We remembered building secret bases in Minecraft with Ryan and Josh. We remembered waiting outside the principal's office with Adam because one of us had the bright idea to read swear words out of the dictionary aloud. And about the last day of recess soccer with Michael, which ended up someone getting a black eye and the sport being banned. Retelling and remembering had me dying from laughter, and it made me wonder why we hadn't heard from any of them anymore. The stories would have been relatively the same and if they looked back on the times as fondly as we did, they'd be wondering where we were too. Or possibly, they never did, and maybe I was just drunk and being sentimental.

But anyways, I remembered I had tried to reach out one summer, the one that marked us being out of high-school for four years, which meant the kids we had grown up with would be either done with college, or close. It seemed like a good point in trying to see how everyone had been, so we sent some messages out, asking if anyone had wanted to try and grab lunch, or a game of volleyball, or anything really. After 3 empty replies and some one word answers, the answer was pretty clear: They were either too busy or didn't really care. Or maybe I was just drunk and being sentimental.

While I had only tried to contact a few people, it ended up reminding me of all the people I had fond memories with, from 7th grade when Max threw up all over my backpack and I laughed so hard I choked, or when someone tried to flush an entire loaf of bread that was still in the bag down the first stall in the men's room, or even the first Halloween party I was ever invited to, the one with the really loud speakers and a massive backyard. It reminded me of high-school when I used to make shitty short films for class, each idea starting with improv and evolving, or the time we ended up placing ham inside one of our buddy's sister's Chromebook. It even reminded me of some guys I played Risk with in-between community college classes, some of which hadn't entered my mind since the pandemic. None of those people even follow me back nowadays, and I can't even tell anymore if I just remember it all differently, or if something had just changed over time. I don't know, maybe I'm just drunk and being sentimental.

I feel like this is becoming more and more common and I can't even tell why that truly is. Sure, I know my world's different now than all those old memories, people drift apart and become busy, and sometimes the task of reaching out to people from the past can feel daunting as hell, but I never forgot some of those people, and I feel like they forgot me. And at first I thought it was a Catholic school thing, something like an inner circle that once you cross, you're out and done, but the more I think about it I realize it's common with every point in my life. Like I said, I know things change and can't stay the same forever, I realize that, but why now does it feel the worst, when everyone's only a call away. I'm sorry for the rambling, maybe I'm just drunk and being sentimental. 

Anyways, my old friend and I only talked a little more before he left, and even if the conversation ended up making me sad, I'm still glad we talked. It felt good to catch up and it felt even better that he still held me in good regard and he still cherished some of the same memories. And honestly, that's really all I wanted to hear. Maybe I'm just projecting, but I always wanted the memories of me to be fond in other people's minds, always trying to keep up a good smile and be a good influence. I can't tell if I just failed at that, or if they just ended up forgetting totally. Maybe it was a combination of both, or something different, like they remember everything in a different way, with less rose-tint and less laughs. Anyways, I'm sorry for the long rant, I'm definitely just being drunk and sentimental.