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My Smile Still Stays On

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Does this look like someone who’s completely disappointed? Give me an Oscar already.

So…Harry’s cousin, Matt, is back from the Army, and after two and a half years, I got to see my pals again! Unfortunately for me, they wanted to go to my work. Totally where I wanted to be on a Saturday in the middle of summer, but for Harry, anything.  I remembered how much fun we used to have and just knew it was going to be like old times. I couldn’t wait!

I had gone over what seeing him would be like a million times in my head. But, in reality, it was like most reality based things, underwhelming. I sat at the spot where we were to met and he walked right passed me. Apparently he didn’t recognize me because he was looking for red hair…even though he knew I’ve been blonde for years. I got a lame, short,  hug and a polite, “What’s new?”

OK, after a few years, maybe things are a little rusty, I get it. Not everyone thinks about life like they’re in a movie…like me.

Ever observant, Matt pointed out that these hats looked like a bra. I tested it out, yep.

The day went on and Matt and I were cracking jokes and ripping on weirdos like we’d done a million times before.  Harry was VERY quiet, not making  jokes or giving much to any conversation.  He showed less than zero interest in what’s going on in my life, which I always find to be a fabulous trait for a “friend” to have, but decided to ignore that for the time being. Roger met us for drinks and Harry, who has met Rog before, had no idea who he was to me or where I knew him from. (Wow! Beyond rude.) I had to repeat stories from when we lived together because he’d forgotten them and others that I knew I had told him and are even on my blog! God forbid he put effort into anything not regarding himself and read this. I try to make it, at least, mildly entertaining! I felt like I had been “erased…from existence.”  What really set me over the edge was when he told me he had been down here on vacation last year and didn’t even stop in to tell me hello. Hiroshima happened in my brain when I heard that bull crap.

At work, on my day off. The definition of a good friend.

My very own Harry Burns, my buddy, old pal had turned into a shell of himself.  A completely beastly, boring, bourgeois, zombie of what he once was. I don’t know how, in under three years, someone I cared for so much could turn into someone who, if I met them in a bar for the first time, I would never want to talk to again. I almost bawled my eyes out at the fireworks (but never let it show, thank you British genes!)  because I was so disappointed and upset at what he’d turned into and what I had lost. Luckily during this extremely depressing turn of events in my life, I listened to the theme music from movies of my childhood, and I realized that even though this feels like hell, I still have movies. I can throw all my energy into my (screen)writing.

I’ll follow Freddie’s sage advice:



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