Jump. Jump up. And get down.

I think a big part of the reason people leave or move away is to see how many people are disappointed they are leaving. Maybe it is just me. I feel appropriately guilty for finding a certain amount of joy in the fact that people that I see once every six weeks are now professing their deep sense of loss that I am leaving for an indefinite amount of time. Should I doubt their sincerity? Historically, blind faith in other’s honesty is a personality trait that I hold dear but has gotten me into some scuffles as of late. I am comfortable in the status of my friendship hierarchy as ‘reliably entertaining, probably genuine, not necessarily dateable and not on my regular texting list” kinda guy. I am happy to keep myself there; on the cusp of the cliques. Pleasantly ambivalent, ready to engage in deep conversations but not trying to flush them out with decoys, days go by disappointed that I see no one called.