The other day I was looking at some old photos in a friend's Facebook account. It seems that more and more people are posting old there. These photos were taken 20 years ago and consisted of snapshots taken at various places such as pubs, beaches. It was so strange looking at those photos. I looked at each, trying to figure out where they have been taken and trying to remember the names of people. Funny how time erases so many names from our memory. We recall the faces, but the names fade away.
Looking at them, I also tried to remember how I was and how I felt during those days two decades ago. And that is even harder. Have I changed? Does anybody really change? Tough questions and ones that are impossible to answer.
Of course, when one gets involved in this type of nostalgic trip, there is always one photo that makes one want to stop and look at it again and again. This time around for me, it was a photo of a woman that used to work with me all that time ago. I remembered her name. I forgot her last name. She was incredibly beautiful. Sexy. And she was funny and intelligent. Everyone at the office was in love with her. Of course, I was too. People would tell me to ask her out. That she would say yes. And yet I did not do it. And quite honestly I can't recall why I didn't. Maybe I thought she was too hot for me (my self esteem was in the dumps back then). Maybe that she would turn me down and I would be crushed. Yes, that was it. I was avoiding being crushed.
Funny thing how life is though. Because looking at her photo again, 20 years after my decision not to ask her out, I felt a bit nostalgic, a bit sad and a bit crushed.