irreparable damage

I'm back in Fremont. What does that mean?
When I come back here, I'm returning to my history--something I left behind when I moved to San Diego. Yeah, duh, right? But it still comes as a bit of a shock to actually rehash what I had easily forgotten about, 500 miles away.

With this city comes a strong foundation of memories and learning experiences. I love Fremont, and I love the friends I have here, and I love my history with the people here.

But..with the good memories, on occasion (slimmer but nonetheless apparent) I also remember the bad. Stuff like facebook or AHS graduation reminds me of people I once knew, and I must say it is mildly disheartening to see something that makes me remember the changes that have occurred. I'm not dwelling on the past, just reflecting. It makes me sad to remember that I once considered this girl one of my closest friends, but my impression of her has changed so drastically that I would be unlikely to acknowledge her presence were I to pass her on the street. I wonder what she sees of me? It's funny--where did the rip occur, and could it have been saved? Was it worth it, friend? Did it really mean enough for you to discard what you had with me?

Oh, history.
Forgive and forget?
Forgive. Or forget.
That's easy to say for anyone else.