Skip (drifterskip) wrote,

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French, with English Subtitles

I used to go to the movies.

There was, I assure you, a time before I started singing arias to the tune of bemoaning high ticket prices. Heck, there were even times when I liked a film so much, I saw it twice. Or more.

Nothing beat that experience of sitting in a theatre, wrapped in a cocoon of sound and darkness, tucked safely away from the outside world and able to escape reality for a couple of hours.

I still like films, of course, but these days I only see them when I can bum 'em off someone's Netflix account or when they come on cable TV.

Just now, I was surfing Comcast's TV Go app, which taps into their premium channels and that newfangled Streampix. I came across a foreign film that I saw with David. It was released in 2004. That's currently freezing my mind up, making it Blue Screen of Death, requiring a mental reboot and crossed fingers that the hard drive of my brainmeats won't seize up again.

2004. That's ten years ago, give or take. I can't remember if we saw the film before or after I graduated college (insert another brain freeze here for the decade of time between then and now). But let's not get too mathy and just call it ten years. It wasn't the last movie I saw in theatres, though I can't actually remember now what was. Wait, no: Monsters University. We try to see a Disney film for Mom's birthday and manage it most years. So, yeah, I've been to the flicks since 2004. It wasn't even the last movie David and I saw together, though that's a title that no amount of excavation can dredge up. It would've been a handful of years after that, that our friendship sputtered and stalled.

Still, seeing that film in the Comcast listings was a fun little sucker-punch that sent me sprawling down Memory Lane. I miss David, miss his guidance and his companionship, and I feel the lack on a daily basis. I don't know how to talk to him anymore; the last time I tried, we were both awkward and stilted and I don't think I sufficiently convinced him that I need him. That was years ago. Can't even imagine how to reach out to him now.

It's not that I don't have friends -- I have some great friends -- and it's not like I spend a lot of time wishing things were different. Once in a while, though, something hits me in just the right way to trigger a memory and it makes me long for not only that camaraderie but also pieces of the person I used to be. When I could drive to a friend's house to hang out. When I had more than a smart phone in my arsenal to communicate with the folks I love. When I could go to the movies without worrying that I should be paying bills. When I had more mobility and less pain.

All this, just from some movie in a list I was scrolling through in some app. The film's title, by the way?

Intimate Strangers.

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