There should be a place where friends that used to be can exist. A place in which they are not alive nor dead; a purgatory.
Because in life, we are bound to lose friends. Those who weren’t able to stick long enough; people we once knew, once important to us; friends who we’ve outgrown and one’s that went the other way. Bottom line is, that’s reality.
To be honest, I abhor this fact. I refuse to accept that there is such a thing. But to deny it is downright ludicrous. Still, I can’t bring myself to let people go. Especially those I’ve known to call friends. I value what they mean to me, and so I’ll try my best to hold onto them.
This purgatory of friends is a reach for those who I have come to know; people that mattered and all the past tense peripherals that failed to function in present continuous tone. This is where I put them, a space in which all positive possibilities are open and negatives are nullified. A place where forgiveness is not withheld but made to be processed; an extension where the heart can be rehabilitated and reconciliation is on the table. A station where building blocks of friendships are restored, if not made new.
It’s unknown to me whether this is labyrinth is purely imaginary or plausible at all (I think it is). But the idea, in and of itself, is perfect. Because you don’t lose anything. It’s not to say that the status of that certain friendship won’t have any implications but it will not have to be so much as severe.
Completely fictional, Factually open.
SONGOFTHEMOMENT: Ghost And The Man by Lakes