So, I've been trying to work out why it is that when I daydream about meeting someone, it's more often that I meet someone again rather than for the first time. There are several people I've imagined what it might be like to meet again someday: Georgie and Eric, who were my best friends up until the age of eleven but got lost after one too many move on my part; Jared or Brian from high school; Matt or Matt or Courtney or a few other guys from college; Jon, Brendan and a small handful of other guys I've worked with over the last few years...
It's not a lack of imagination. I write fiction for God's sake, so it's not as though I can't imagine meeting someone I've never met. But I guess it's because there's a lack of satisfaction in imagining someone you're never actually going to meet. I've had dreams about doing just this, and I inevitably wake up depressed when I realize that as nice as the person in the dream was, he's simply not out there.
The other issue is that reconnecting with someone is just less work. For social butterflies I'm sure that the effort that goes into meeting someone is energizing and there's a sense of excitement over the possibility that s/he might be someone you'll make a real connection with, but for those of us for whom it is a real effort...the worst part is when one of those people exits your life without anything ever really happening, so it seems like so much invested time was wasted.
Maybe, at least judging from TV shows where women on the far side of thirty talk about having kids "someday," not everyone hears the ticking of a clock, but I'm afraid of wasting much more time myself, which makes the idea of starting over with people I've never met a less than thrilling prospect. But what can you do? I've never been a good enough stalker to track down any of those guys I find myself wondering about now and again.
"Will we be more than friends? I'm still waiting for that look. This might be my last chance. When the fire dies and the stars burn up maybe you'll want to dance" - Tijuana Strip Club, The Way You Looked At Me Once