I saw your face in a crowded place...

I saw her a few days ago.

She was one of my closest friends. Someone I had known for more than two years. And someone I respected as a professional and a person. At one time, there was seldom a day that passed without us swapping mails or messages or yakking on the phone on just about every subject under the sun.

I have not talked to her for almost four months now. Yeah, we swap the occasional message. And sometimes when she is online, she notices me. She keeps saying we will meet some day to catch up.

We haven’t caught up since May. She is a busy person. At least for me. She does seem to be able to meet other people. Am I jealous? I have no idea. I just know it hurts. She was my friend, you know.

And there she was, a few feet from me. Walking in that style she has when she is alone – staring mainly at the road and occasionally looking up and from side to side. She had not changed much in five months – a bit tired, a bit less cheerful, maybe. She did not notice me – she was too intent on walking.

I pulled out my phone and was about to dial her number. To tell her to stop and say “hi!”.To say just how amazing it was to see her after all this time. And of course, to ask her why she looked so tense.

And then I stopped.

This was a person I had once called my closest friend It was also the person who never seemed to have time for me since May. What would be served by calling her? Maybe we would chat for a few minutes, laugh a bit. And then she would go back to being busy for another...four months, or would it be longer this time?

So there I stood like a fool, within shouting distance from one of the people I had been dreadfully fond of, clutching a phone that had her number open on it. I could not bring myself to hit the ‘dial’ button.

I just stood and watched her until she passed out of sight. Then I quietly put the phone back in my pocket, fighting an absurdly childish urge to sit down and burst into tears.

Perhaps this is what James Blunt meant when he sang:

“I saw your face in a crowded place,

And I don’t know what to do.”

Which, of course, went on to become my status message a few days later.

Do I hate her? I don’t think I do. And I think she does not mind me either. In fact, in some strange way, I think she likes me. We are always very pleasant to each other when we do swap mails or messages. She just does not have time for me.

You know, there’s a bit of me that hopes that she will finally take some time out. Some day. To see me. To just talk about everything under the sun. Like we used to.

And there’s a lot of me that knows that that won’t happen. Heck, the way things are going, perhaps we will never meet again. We might bump into each other some time, but that will be more by accident than design.

And maybe, that’s for the best.

After all, Blunt’s song does end:

“But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.”