I do miss puddle-jumping a great deal

Got a phone call from an old...from a person I've known for a long time today. Complicated relationship, complicated story, water under the bridge.

Water under the bridge.

Strange to be able to say that and really mean it now, or at least mean to mean it. I would have gone to see him at the airport if it had been possible, but his layover is too short and the drive is too long. Besides, I think the phone conversation proved, by becoming a little awkward after only six minutes, that we don't have anything that pressing to chat about. Better to keep the interactions short and not risk any deeper feeling. That aspect of our relationship is gone, and I don't miss it. It was nice, but it has no place in my life now—it would be like missing the red rubber Winnie the Pooh boots I wore every day when I was three. They were great and fun and cute, but there's no way they would fit on my feet anymore, and I would feel silly trying to make them work.

It's okay. I don't have to.