Well hello, January. What a winter of cold and snow and reflective sunshine.
As you probably don't remember, I spent a lot of high school in a philadelphia (the state of mind, not the state, unfortunately). I am recalling now some very good advice I was given, though I didn't want to hear it at the time. It went thusly: that you can never be friends with your former lovers until you don't want to be friends anymore. I always figured that at that point, the question had quite solved itself.
But being the late-evening internet wanderer that I am, I go meandering altogether too freely through old communications, emails and transcripts of conversations (shouldn't the universe conspire to delete those for me?) altogether too often.
And being my particularly astute self, I managed to dig up the only line that could make me think that oh yes of course if I broke this rule just once it would be fine. Because ruining my past relationships has not satisfied me, and I have to wander into a dubious space with my current one.
I detest uncertainty.
