Journal-y fiction? 

Sometime in November 2008

They were a group of friends who’ve been together for far too long.  They were still the same people, basically anyway, but the life experiences and lessons handed out to them ripened those wee buds of personality traits into well-defined characteristics that simply refused to say no.

They were changed people, people who grew up to be well-adjusted adults, very much capable of making sound decisions to get what they want.

They didn’t change into bad people; they’ve just…changed.

The lot of them grew up together in one place, a sanctuary that sheltered them for the better part of eight years.  That they had that in common used to be enough.  But they grew up into different people with different dreams, different aspirations.  And it is on cold nights like these that it is most palpable, that what used to be a seamless flow of chatter has now been punctured by lapses of uncomfortable silence.

It was in the air between them, around them, in them, the change that’s transpired.  But still, it remains unacknowledged by the same intelligent group who chose the path of denial.  After all, they all grew up together; surely that must count for something, right? 

The topics are askew and awkward; it goes without saying that they do not generate much chatter.  Everybody busies himself or herself with fiddling with their mobile phones, opting to silently ignore the people around them.

It is a sad thing to realize that the people you are with do not know you, nor do you know them; a tragic state of events that can only be broken by the magic of midnight, when someone states the need to go home.

One can almost feel the sigh of relief that runs through them.  Everybody is thankful for the excuse and immediately jumps on board to go. 

And these childhood friends part ways, thinking that what has been a pleasurable activity has now turned into responsibility, has been fulfilled.  For now.

-Fin-