Vorstein
I just found out today that my ex-roommate, “J” gave birth to her daughter the other day. I’m a guy who is always looking for links to the past. I’m not sure why, but it’s some sort of reassuring thing. For instance, way back when I started writing for The Diatribe in April 2005, “J” was still my roommate and very much a close friend. My early blogs are sprinkled with mentions of her. After nearly four years of living under the same roof, we had become like siblings. That all seems like so much longer than 16 months ago.
The next couple of months saw her move in with her soon-to-be-husband and change the direction of her life. Our friendship withered on the vine, with our primary connection being the lease agreement between us and the monthly rent checks I mailed her, as I still lived in her property. She was there at my wedding, but that was a rare detente and it was, once again, downhill.
I was on the distribution list announcing her baby’s birth, so I haven’t dropped off the map completely. It was just such an out-of-body experience reading the email and viewing the pictures already arranged on her daughter’s very own web site. I felt as if I was looking at the baby pictures of someone I used to know. I can’t put a finger on it, so I’ll just go with vorstein. It felt just like vorstein.
