Got away, okay.

The guy I had a monster crush on all through high school and into university (we went to the same one; I wasn’t a stalker) got married this weekend. This news flash courtesy of his sister’s Facebook comments and photos.

I was expecting a little twinge or something, that “one that got away” recognition, or just that “yup, I’d totally still hit that” moment. But… not so much. I noted how he’s changed, wonder where most of his neck went (hazards of a football player build and wearing a suit, I guess…), and shook my head at the bride’s taste in dress and those of her attendants (note: taupe and bubble skirts flatter no one).

Added to the assorted engagements I’ve heard about and friends’ weddings this summer, I got another little twinge of the “crazy cat lady dies alone” fear, but not traumatically enough that I had to go drown my sorrows in a bottle of cooking sherry or something.

It was odd, too, how in some of the pictures I’d recognize faces, but not names, or names, but not faces. This happens with some regularity given the number of friends my brother still has from back home, but it doesn’t so much happen within what was my own sphere.

Then I pondered my current sphere, such as it is. All these people I half-remember are/were real. Tangible. We saw each other regularly, whether or not we interacted. Now? I know more people I’ve never met and interact virtually even with my best friends more often than I actually see them. It’s just how we roll (and yet there are plenty of folks I can’t even begin to explain this culture to).

All in all, a useful bit of nostalgia, I guess. Where people have come from and come to is always interesting to ponder. To the past, the present, and the future, then: mazel tov.