Wait…Do I Fear The Past?

I have to lead with one key thing: I am the LEAST social-media-centric person in the world.  I have no FaceBook (in spite of advice to the contrary)…I check Twitter only to consume feeds from people important in my line of work (and regret it every single time)…

Shit, the closest I come to an active social media presence is this blog!

I do, however, have a LinkedIn profile.  Err…not a fake one for the pseudonym under which I write (wait…that surprises you?  Really?!  I write a quasi-anonymous blog, for fuck’s sake!) but a profile under my own actual, real, honest-to-God name.

I don’t use it.

No, like ever…

I left working for other people on anything other than the most cheap, slutty, pay-by-the-minute-whore basis better than five years ago.  Why on Earth, Mars, or fucking Betelgeuse for that matter, would I give two shits about maintaining my LinkedIn profile?

I still get the emails, however.

Any physics grad student out there who wants a Nobel Prize just needs to spend a day with me: I hit “delete” on those emails far, far faster than the speed of light.  Shit, most of the time I delete ’em before they arrive. Take that, Einstein!


But some sneak through.

Now, generally if something happens in my life that I want to write publicly about, I give it some time to percolate before I put the words down.  That is NOT the case right now.

I got an email – via my much-maligned and much-ignored LinkedIn profile – from one of my oldest high school friends.

I really don’t know what to say…

Even less do I know how to react.

Before this email, I have been in contact with all of 1 (one) (uno) (eins) (ichi) (jeden) (iksi) friend from high school.  I believe I’ve mentioned before that I don’t do nostalgia well?

Yeah, welcome to my life.

But I just got an email.

Why is that a big deal? I hear you ask.

Wait, really…what, are you 12?

Are YOU the same person you were at 17?!

After we graduated, I went to college an hour-ish away and this friend fell off my radar.

That hurt, but not for the reasons you might think…

I’ve mentioned before the very real suicides that helped to inspire and create Wrath & Tears.

This particular friend was deeply, closely and personally involved with the first of those.

We were brothers, back then.  As was our friend who killed himself.

Where the hell do you think some of the relationship between Oz and Connor came from?

I haven’t hit the “reply” button on the email yet.  I am, to be honest, afraid to.

Let’s see: one of us has letters after his name…one of us is working for Fortune 500-type companies.

The other writes.  The other knows every brewery between Los Angeles and Helsinki. The other uses an anonymous blog to share far-too-personal shit.

Yeah, screw “send”, I just hit the “confirm” button on the Drizly order…

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