15.2.25 - Yesterday

I'm listening to Song for Zula by Phosphorescent. When I first heard it in 2019, I just joined Sportify and it was the song which captured the glory and tragedy of love. So much has happened between then and now. Over the past two days I met up with incredible friends, both whom I have done wonderful things with. Each catch up is full of conversation and news. Each catch up is filled with laughter and love. I always look forward to these things.

Yesterday though, I heard that a very good friend, now since lapsed, had developed dementia and had to take early retirement. They were only 57. The people at work started to see that they were missing meetings and doing things which were dangerous in the line of work where a small mistake could injure and cost lives. The news was - I had not been in touch with this person for more than ten years, but once upon a time we were close - very close. Once upon a time we made these memories of a lifetime together.

I could not believe the news. I sat that with every imaginable cliche ridden feeling going through me. On Valentine's Day. This news comes to me. This news. That there is no real cure for. That it could be faster it could be slower. That they could be living their best life now, that they could now have forgotten all the wonderful things that had happened to them. 

But Jonathan has just told me it's short term memory and maybe - I might just reach out to them. I don't know. 

What good would it do? 

So, I spent the second half of yesterday, watching Apple Cider Vinegar. 

It was about the wellness industry and what a scam it is. What it does do, is that like everything which purports a cure, it over promises. Apparently cancer comes and goes in you all the time and you have no idea it's taking place. It's just something that happens. But it's the monetisation and the lying, the oversharing and the confessional nature, which can be seen a manipulative. It's a fucking nightmare of toxicity. How are you supposed to focus on getting better if all you are doing is focusing on your popularity. It is the Instagram part which exacerbates the snake oil side of things.

Anyway - just returned from getting someone from the airport... anyway...

The truth is that the past is the past and there was a reason we didn't stay in touch. In the end I was glad that I was able to have the good memories and I know that they had good memories too. We had the best memories. Beaches, sea cliffs, towns, canals, the Atlantic, stories, music, shared laughter and sorrows... it was simply a moment in time where I could not even bring myself to regret anything. We were so so happy. And we will always, always have that. I was asked, do you think that there was something there already which maybe, did you see it. I said, no absolutely not. Intelligent, capable, funny, great storyteller... every single thing was incredible. There was no sign. OK, maybe we drank and bit too much and maybe there was a predisposition in the genes... but apart from that, nothing.

Then we comforted each other in saying that it could be that there were only momentary lapses and that really they could be living their best life now. It could be that. 

It could be that they are having a great time having time off, returning to where life is familiar, although why they didn't stay here I don't know, and that they have managed to arrest the process.

To slow it down. 

I lay in bed last night, just tossing and turning. I couldn't sleep. Sometimes I'd dream of them, as I dream of other people - lately it has been Ghin... but occasionally, there they would be. Smiling, or being enigmatic. They were the most intuitive person who always rejected their intuition. The dreams they would have were amazing. I was nearly jealous of their natural lucid dreaming abilities - and they didn't even know they were doing that.

They didn't come in the brief moments I managed to fall asleep. In the end, I put on a pseudo archaeological text The History of Atlantis and fell asleep to that. The words are just words, melding into the background... my imaginary home, Atlantis. My real home.

It is strange when the entire world suddenly changes. When everything is seen through the lens of time and how we have to make the most of what we have. Kevin and I talked about other friends. The RSPB, of course. We talked about how we were glad to have gotten out - to have gone on to reinvent ourselves. He said, you got out and reinvented yourself. The RSPB was supposed to be my reinvention. He still does stuff for it. 

In the end, there is only friendship and connection. In the end, there is only how you would choose to spend your time. I was saying to Kevin how the people in the Blue Zone lived good lives through connection, exercise and good diet. And they live till they are elderly but have meaningful lives and it is that connection which keeps them going. Perhaps it really WAS genetic for them, because they did everything right.

I looked at old photos yesterday, all available online, of course. These photos spanned twenty years. Taken in 2003, then 2012, then 2020. I then thought of my other friends... maybe they weren't as happy as I thought they were and maybe they were hiding all of it? I woke this morning and the entire thing hit me even harder. Even harder.

So I'm here writing about it.