People may not have forgotten about this, but they've certainly quit caring. Heck, I almost quit caring myself. It would not have been a huge loss if I had. It would have just been a regular loss. The same kind of loss as occurs every day when people forget to shave and alienate folks on the streets. The kind of loss that is easy to ignore, and if you try hard enough, to forget.
A few weeks ago - it feels so long ago now, vacations do that to you - I was sitting with a few of my friends who are girls. I won't call them girl friends, because those are dangerous words. The sequence of the words here is very important. At any rate, we were just talking while waiting for a party of sorts to start. We were talking about the people we know and our interactions with them, and we were verging on bitterness. As an experiment of sorts, I don't know what sort, I ventured "You know, I was going to ask out X the other day, but when I got up the morning after I decided to do it I realized that I could never make the logistics work." We bantered the idea back and forth a bit on the subject, and I ended up getting heaped with abuse that I should have seen coming.
The detail of this episode that I desire to scrutinize is the difference in my opinion between the night I decided to ask X (I'd probably tell you her name if you ask nicely) out and the morning I decided against it. I stand by the morning position now because it's the more reasonable one. There's no way my plans of the evening were going to happen. They were just plain logistically unfeasible. It seems to happen so often though, our rescinding night's plans in favor of morning's realities. It appears to me that this phenomenon is part of the never-ending battle between man's possibilities and his abilities. Is it that I dream too big at night, or am I actually afraid in the morning? Is it possible to dream too big? What would I be afraid of?
Time to paint.