Nine years ago I was Christine's penpal on America Online, when it was one of the few services (alongside Compuserv, Prodigy and other such networks) that preceeded broadband and standard internet service providers. Keeping in touch waned after awhile, as many things do when growing up.

In July, Christine was working in the summer at a law firm not far from my locale. It's been a good seven or eight years since we last met. We managed to meet up for her lunch hour. And since I was still unemployed, my "flexible" schedule was understated.

It was great catching up with her, and almost surreal. How many people do you get back in touch with or see in-person after almost a decade? Sometimes I think it was more impacting to me than her: post-college she is working hard to move up in her profession, while I'm still a mid-twenties nomad soul struggling to get hired some place.

Good times, but also a short time. It started a month of contemplation... about friends who I couldn't even get a hold of weeks later, only for them to disappear. At the time I couldn't understand it. But lately, everything has come together.

While other people use e-mail as a tool to maintain contact or do work, I've always used it to keep in touch with even the farthest of friends. And in many ways I've invested myself into that. Sometimes equivalent to a phone call, e-mail was the only way I could even consider hearing back from people.

I figured that others friends, especially others who are committed (have significant others, etc), they can afford not to keep in touch with others. Life has moved them along. Sooner or later, we fall out of the scope of someone for perfectly normal reasons... though at first we might want to know why, especially when we're lonely. Am I right, or just a little too introspective?

In recent months I've come to an understanding and I let go of certain things, as friends have let go of keeping in touch with me. People move on, life moves along, and we just have to work with the flow of things. I didn't expect to meet up with Christine, not in years. But it was nice that she took the time out to meet again and chat over some lunch. I was opening a time capsule for moments at a time.

Meeting friends you haven't met in ages can be a bittersweet experience: sometimes you want to realize (once more) the last great thought you had of someone, only to find that it is just a memory.