She Was A Rare Thing, Fine As A Beeswing, And I Miss Her More Than Words Could Say

--"Beeswing", Thompson Richard

Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like for Rachel as her friends seemed to abandon her. Sometimes I wonder what it must have felt like to not understand what she did wrong or how she could fix the situation. I wonder if she had thoughts of replaying everything she said or did, trying to find the one thing that might point to why she was being so suddenly ostracized. I wonder if they froze her out--hiding their screennames on-line, ducking her calls, refusing to see her. I'm sure she had some clue as to why it was happening, but I do not think even in all her wisdom she could fathom that the transformation from friends to stranger would be so complete. Maybe it would have been better if they had held more bitterness about it. Maybe it would have been better if they had been mean and callous, heckled her in the halls more. Yet I suspect that the change would have more resembled the formality of being declined for a job or being told one didn't make the sports team rather a brutal stabbing or punch. The pain would have been more dull and crushing rather than a sharp bolt. Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like for Rachel not knowing so much of what she could have done to keep her friends.

Then days like this come along and I no longer am left to wonder.

She may not have been my closest friend or my longest friend, but losing someone you thought you connected with, without benefit of explanation or reasoning, hurts no matter who you are.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers