I've been thinking lately about friends from long ago.  I don't mean casual acquaintances from within the past several years.  I don't mean buddies lost a decade ago.  I do mean friends — real friends — from pre-collegiate school — now some 17-25 years ago (depending on which grade we're talking about).

Yesterday morning I checked my e-mail as part of my usual routine.  My habits in this regard are so mundane as to seem inhuman.  With toothbrush in mouth actively attacking the evil enemies who might be hiding there, the new e-mail rushed in like a torrential flood — spam; more spam; oh look! yet more spam; status messages from my various web servers; a few more pieces of spam to reiterate to me who was in charge; some of my mailing list messages; another piece of spam, now like spittle in the eye; comment notifications from my blog; two more pieces of spam — I'm numb at this point, staring blankly as I work the toothbrush around the insides of my teeth, trying not to allow the influx of spam to affect me…

Loki sat beside me in his morning ritual: assault Daddy with shrieking, clawing at the skin, snagging the bathrobe, and general nerve abuse.  This wakes me up in the morning, this relentless attack to get attention.  While all of The Kids have their own routines to start the day, Loki's is the most ruthless.

As the messages continue coming in, I pet him roughly and make him chase my hand for more attention.  This is our game, and he's brutally unremitting in his quest to win — to get the attention he much deserves.

Then, abruptly, an end to my unconscious repetition of habits and irritated dismissal of the unsolicited garbage that inundates me constantly…  There… That name… Loki hangs onto my hand now, unwilling to release me from my obligation… That e-mail submitted from my site… That name… I become wholly unaware of the world around me, the claws now holding firmly to my arm, the schedule I must keep to get ready for work, the list of things I must do today… All of it disappears… That name…

There is a list in my mind, a list of those names from the past which now intrigue and entice me, a list with no existence outside of my thoughts.  They are names of confidants and intimates.  They are, as I said, "friends from long ago"… and I do mean "friends" in the very real sense of the word.  These are people who meant much to me in the past and who still hold very real and dear places in my heart.  I miss all of them, and they come to the forefront of my mind more and more lately.  They are people I would like to find and would like to contact.  They are people with whom I would very much like to renew my friendship if possible.

One of the names at the top of that list appeared before me, an e-mail which at first seemed to be a contact submission from my blog.  The coincidence in seeing that name at this time was too much for me as I was still circling that place between sleep and wakefulness where reality is unclear.  Could this be spam, and the name a dictionary-generated happenstance?  Might there be a correlation between this name and the one I know, or is this a coincidental pseudonym on some arbitrary piece of junk mail?  What are the odds?

As the influx of e-mail slowed and eventually stopped, I clicked on the message, feeling a nervous twitch deep within me that this might somehow be true, that it might actually be from a friend with whom I shared an enigmatic affinity starting some 22 years ago, trailing off less than 4 years later.  This message before me… Could it really be from him?  Startled, I sat forward and stared intently at the screen — reading, considering, rereading, reminiscing, and contemplating.  I sat in awe.

As I read the message, confirming to myself by content and format that it was indeed a normal contact submission, I began to realize the universe could be a very small place.  This was my friend from so long ago.  This selfsame person was my best friend during the formative years of my life.  He was my anchor to reality and friendship and trust in a time when most our age would have forsaken each of those.  He was my confidant, my brother, that person with whom I could share anything and from whom I could always expect honesty and sincerity.  We had shared a bond, years of our lives linked together in a platonic dance of fondness and devotion.

How comes it then in this time, having his name so evident in my present thoughts, that he contacts me?  I cannot explain how this makes me feel.  I cannot explain my own confusion over how this can be real.

We spent most of yesterday e-mailing each other, catching up, digitally welcoming each other back into our respective lives.  Even now, more than 24 hours later, I am left in awe and almost numb.  It is a surreal event.  I have mentioned him recently in conversations with other friends, passing remarks about how I would like to get in touch with him if possible.  He is one of several people of historic importance to me, and now, there he is as real as I remember, somehow brought to me by sheer will and thought.  These are the times that remind me that we humans are far more complex than we understand, and we are capable of bonds which surpass what can be quantified.

Perhaps you've picked up the phone to call a friend, only to find them already on the line with you.  Perhaps you have thought much about someone dear to you and resolved yourself to contact them, then answered the phone or received an e-mail and realized it is them initiating communication with you.  Perhaps you have felt that something may be wrong in the life of a friend and contacted them to make sure they were OK, only to find that something has gone terribly wrong in their life and their soul was beckoning to yours.  Perhaps you are a twin and could always tell how your sibling felt, even when you were not with them or in direct communication with them.  No matter what example you can think of, the proof of metaphysical bonds between humans is undeniable.  This is just such a coincidence.

The agape we shared, he and I, and the persistent realism of true friendship betwixt us are things I have always regretted not protecting more actively.  Yes, we were children, and as children, we did not fully comprehend the importance of such bonds.  We drifted apart and lost touch.  Still, those years were important to me, his friendship a significant part of my life.  As he said in his introductory e-mail, we share very old and pleasant memories, and we were the closest of friends for about three years.  The possibility of renewing that friendship is more or less overwhelming.  I happily welcome him back to my life.