I have said this before, and if someday this person reads this they will know who they are, but I refuse to believe entirely in chance. I believe in what is called, "Sincronicity" or meaningful coincidences. Random chance does certainly exist, however there are times when, through the collective will or desire of two or more individuals, the world is influenced by that will. I strongly believe that at a time when I most needed a friend, and I think they needed one too, that we somehow found each other. I used to think there was more meaning to it than that, but now I am faced with the thought that meeting them was just supposed to be a growing experience for us. Maybe we weren't meant to stay in contact with each other. It isn't what I want to believe, but it might be true. So, to find out, after several years apart, I will try to reach out to them, one last time. If nothing comes of it, at least I have the time we spent together. But I refuse to lose anyone else. I am down to three people I can truely call my friends, people I talk to everyday, that I love and I know love me. I have tried to reach out to other people, but I think I am too old. I know 26 isn't that old, but I think that the social skills (what little I had) of my younger days have faded (either through design or ill use). Maybe this happens to everyone. Most believe that the friends you have once you become an adult, are the ones you keep for life. I won't deny that it is partly because of fear that I don't actively try to form new bonds with people, after all it took 10 years to cement the ones I have. And that is precisely the reason I don't want to give up on this particular one, even after not speaking for years, I still consider them a friend. I can only hope they feel the same, and what's more, that I can contact them if they do. I don't think I will be using this journal again for awhile. It has brought up too many memories (not really good or bad) that should remain in the past. I begin to realize that maybe this "new" person I think I have become, was merely a way for me to live with the difficulties of the past few years. And that the kid who wrote this journal might not be as lost as I thought him to be. The sad thing is, that the way things are in my life currently, I am not sure I want him to come back. I think the weight of my everyday life would crush him, but maybe one day, if I can still remember how, it will be okay put this current persona away, and bring back the one with promise. The problem being, I have lived almost half my life with this protective visage. At what point will I lose the ability to discard it. Or perhaps a better question is, since I adopted it without much thought until recently, will I adopt something worse without knowing it, until it is to late?