At some point in time a number of years ago, I had a friend who had a falling out with me over my arrogance and immaturity. I confess to this, it was all my fault, and I see it now. I was obsessed with popularity. I was a bully. I was unreflective, inconsiderate, racist, sexist, stuck up, and spoiled, not just in terms of money, but also when it came to the friends and family I, at the time, didn't realize I had to treasure.
This ex-friend of mine also writes a blog, and I check in on it every other day to get an update on his life. Whether he reads mine, or whether he knows I read his, I don't know. And I don't think I'll find out any time soon.
Unsurprisingly, we still share the same mutual friends. We were a tight group back in the day. Four guys, four girls, not necessarily a spider web of eight mutual bonds, but altogether, fairly harmonious, chill, fun company.
I find it kind of weird when my closest friends tell me about him, how he said this in a conversation the other day, or how they're going to meet up with him tomorrow. I feel a bit weird reading about his life without talking to him otherwise. I think it's weird just thinking about him.
For a long time, I've been thinking about meeting a blogger in real-life. I have a feeling that day's not far.
But here I am in a different situation. I knew this guy in real-life. And now I know him only through his blog.
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