I recently came across this picture that I had taken for my photography class in college. I had actually developed it in a real darkroom with real film... a sign of how old I am getting. But that's not what makes me take pause when I look at it. I've always been intrigued by it, by the water and the texture of the waves, by the infinite beyond. I like the way the reflection of the man starts off so clear but quickly becomes distorted by the ripples in the water, similar to the way my best intentions often go sour. But that is still not what makes me take pause when I look at it. 

This picture does something for me that it doesn't do for anyone else in the world. It transports me back to that cold college day when I convinced my best friend to freeze on the shore of the lake to fulfill my artistic whims. And of course, he did. We were inseparable, he and I. We had so many wonderful times together... and also some horrible ones, but he was my family away from home.

Then we graduated and life went on. I moved away and am known for being horrible at keeping in touch with people. And somehow it happened that I haven't spoken to him in years. There is a similar story to be told about many old friends, who were more like family to me. Somehow I just let them go, and I regret it at times, but whether they know it or not, they will always have a piece of me, and I of them.