The Disappeared

It was like driving through an old movie of my life, but one where if you looked hard enough you could see the ghosts.

I passed places where I'd lived, and wondered if the people who had shared my life at those times were still there, or if not, where they might be.

I saw places that triggered long dormant memories, mostly good but a few that I'd rather had remained forgotten.

I wondered if those who had disappeared from my life were doing OK. Whether they ever thought of me as I was now thinking of them.

It's funny how people just disappear from your life. It's not always intentional, but we move, we change numbers, addresses, lose details and then without even realising it we're lost.

There's a part of me, my saviour complex as Deborah calls it, that wants them all to be doing well, to be happy, to have rich, fulfilled lives, but there's also a part of me that knows that won't have happened for all of them.

Some of them I know are no longer even alive, but the rest I hope are at the very least surviving and happy in their lives.

I have a tendency to try and save everybody - everybody except myself, that is, but I'm learning that life doesn't work that way.

We can't save everyone. At best we can only hope that they're doing OK.