{frag}-[M-E-N-T-E-D]

One of the most common comments about melancholic souls is that they tend to be inward seeking introverts. We are said to be shy of crowds and more comfortable with our trusted few. The energy of keeping up with acquaintances exhausts us. However, once we do make a connection, we are said to be fiercely loyal hold onto that connection for life.  

I remember a group of three,

We were a trio, you see.

We wandered about like we owned the hill.

We were unaware of flaws, of fear or of ill.

We were each other's towers;

Each one carrying the heart of the others'.

Though we wandered apart,

We each fell onto our own paths;

When we do unite

I know it will be right.

I miss the 90s. That was the last decade of real communication. If I wanted to hear from my friends, I actually had to go see them [and hope that they were home]. We had only one phone at home, which was locked most of the time. In the 90s, people kept time. If someone said meet them at 9 AM, you had to be there by 8:55 AM. There was no way to send a text message and say you were running late. Everyone now is all about exercising and keeping in shape. The 90s was when I exercised the most. I actually used my bicycle. We even had a little gang of us who met, almost religiously, every day to ride and make merry. There were no selfies or goupies. Just plain old fun. 

In order to establish who the trusted few are, one has to try to make various connections. The trouble is that with all these other forms of communication, people create and recreate themselves with each text. It is difficult to establish the truth about a person and by the time you've  discovered that they are a fraud, you've invested time and effort into it. In the process, I end up leaving pieces, fragments of me in the the broken connections. The logical response to the pain of fragmentation is to give up trying, to eject and discontinue the attempts to make connections. 

I have seen how the opportunities to create illusions have changed people. I struggle to pretend that certain conversations actually matter and that others don't rub me the wrong way. I suspect it might be best to retreat every once in a while. Hopefully, each time one emerges, it might have a refreshing effect. 

In other news, dogs do not lie.