The most difficult part of moving back to

the area where you grew up are

the people you bump into

 

who you haven’t seen for years.

Mainly, it’s people who attended

school with you, but occasionally

it’s a family member or an ex, and

 

they’re the ones that stagger you.

After saying a flustered

hello, the first and most obvious

questions are the ones like:

‘How are you?’

and

‘So… what have you been up to

since I saw you last?’

 

There’s no way of adequately

summing up such a sizeable chunk

of time without falling short

in all regards.

‘Not a lot, really,’

is the standard response from both parties.

 

Sometimes, this exchange takes place

2 or 3 times in 1 day.

 

First up is a cousin,

blank and greying,

and even though you try to

keep it brief,

you still find time to talk about relatives,

some of whom have died,

some of whom are still

hanging in there.

 

Then you see this guy who was

in the same year at school, a

beached-whale of a bloke whose

only line of conversation involves

car-modifications and other things

that you have absolutely no grasp

of.

 

And then it’s this woman who used

to be this girl that you had sex with

4 days after your 18^th birthday.

She talks about her impending divorce

and about how funnily enough

she was only thinking about you

the other day.

 

It can all become a bit trying

sometimes. It’s not that you’re anti-social

as such, and you certainly don’t

consider yourself to be superior

than anyone; it’s just painful

to be reminded that everyone

you know is getting older,

 

because it means that

you are too.