It was a different time. Happier, if one wished to be self-indulgent. A time of companionship, of easy talk and chatter. We would talk over lunch, over drinks, over dinner.
We would meet and be met by a multitude of characters whose stories were as interesting as our own. We would weep over tales that left our hearts raw. We would surge with joy at the hope of the future.
We were young, full of love and truth and life. We dared to believe it would last forever.
How I wish I could tell you that it did. Or that events beyond our control shattered this lovely oasis of peace and calm and humanity into a million shards.
But that would a disservice to the past me who now lives only in memory. In truth? We failed to recognise its value, and it fell away. And by the time we realised what we had lost, it was too late to return. It was gone. We were gone, mired in responsibility and commitment and the countless ordinary facets of daily life.
We reached for it, we did. But it had fallen out of our reach.