Caught off Guard

I had a quick thought today of the Peake Players—the theatre group that I used to work with back home. I can’t even remember the exact thought, but it made me think of Anita, the director of group. I had a brief moment of, “I should message her and tell her…” and then the thought stopped there. Then I remembered:

I can’t message her. 

I can’t talk to her. 

I can’t send her a card or give her a call.

And my brain just sort of tripped out for a moment. That’s never happened to me before. In the past, when I missed someone I always had the option to contact them in some way. And even if I didn't end up talking to them, it was still a comfort to know that I could if I wanted to.

This is the first time I've thought of someone and not been able to reach them in some way. And it freaks me out. I've never had this feeling before. It’s weird and I don’t understand it. You’d think that after living for a quarter of a century that you've had all the “feels” (as the kids are saying these days) that you’re ever going to have. But that’s not true. There are still so many more things to feel, to experience—still so many things that are going to hurt you.

I guess I was caught off guard.