The unwanted friend

I don't really understand what my hang up is with having friends - I guess it's just one of those things that I need to accept rather than change. And why, yet again, am I back to this age old, get over yourself already - topic? My address book in my phone. It's handy to have a portably phone book, it really is. But on the flip side, when I want to find a number quickly, I don't want to be scrolling through every single number in creation (those of you who know me, know I get obsessive about adding things, making to do lists - and then promptly lay them down and forget about them) But my cell phone well it doesn't delete the item just because I dont use it - though come to think of it - i wouldn't mind having a phone that said - by the way you haven't called this person and they haven't called you in - oh 2 years, do you still think you need their number. I think that perhaps it should add a short text message - seriously, what event would have to occur that they would call you or that would take your call. I have a couple of numbers like that - idealistic - wish I was who they thought I was or they were who I thought they were kind of numbers -- they are really more a symbol of hope than reality. I imagine they are the equivalent of a guy getting phone numbers from a girl in a bar - and calling the number to discover that it is the number of a fast food place or a fax machine. But still, he clings to that scrap of paper and every so often will dial the numbers just to make sure that he dialed them the right way the first time. And now, you've found the connection - I'm the loser guy with the scrap of paper. That's not to say that I'm starting big. The first number I deleted was Jim Jim Wallace's. I only had that number by accident - he gave it to me at the reunion - why I don't know. Reunions - like prom - are moments moved from realistic time - things seem shinier, better, closer to perfect somehow. And though I hadn't used the number and knew that he would never call me, I felt somehow like I was giving up on something to delete his number. Steven Sanders will be my next number to erase - and that number will make me a bit sadder I think. Mostly because for a brief moment some 20 years ago - Steven thought that I was smart or had something worthwhile to say - and that someone thought that and cared enough to tell me matters. That doesn't not however mean that he necessarily wants to be an active member of my daily existance (and to give him credit, he did indeed say that he would not be the type of person who would keep in touch at all - setting those expectations almost as low as the republicans with Sarah Palin's debate skills). And there was a time when I had hoped that maybe we would be friends -- but you can't be friends with a fictional character. Or rather, you can, but it's not really considered good mental health, though it may result in a nice vacation if you don't care padding and buckles. And deleting him from my phone doesn't mean losing his email - it just means putting things on more realistic footing - accepting what is without expectations. And it is exactly this reason why I'm not putting John Bruce's phone number in my phone -- but rather on an email / christmas card list. It's a fair acknowledgement to say that seeing him again affected me and I want to thank him and let him know that it did. That doesn't not mean that he wants me all up in his business. Nor does it mean that he wouldn't like to know how everyone is from time to time. I'm going to operate under the same assumption for many of the other people that I know. And who knows - maybe someone will suprise me - but I doubt it.