Have you ever unexpectedly crossed paths with someone from your past? Not just anyone, but someone you thought of as a friend … someone who impacted your way of seeing the world?

While some run-ins can be quickly forgotten, others can make you flash back to another decade, can give you whiplash that takes a moment to shake off. This was one of those times.

The other day I was at a local fair wandering through some of the tents while waiting for the next horse exhibition … not expecting to see anyone I know/knew, definitely not expecting to stand beside someone who had crossed my mind time and again throughout the last ten years. But there we were – literally next to one another, whether by chance or by design.

Thirteen years ago, when we were both different people, we shared Art and English classes. While I struggled to find a place, he seemed to glide through the social barriers unscathed, unattached. He read philosophy and listened to indie rock bands – both relatively new to me. I joined every club and organized every school event while he played various sports and watched unheard of films. Needless to say I love indie music, foreign films, traveling, and ended up minoring in Philosophy. He – probably completely unaware – opened up a world of possibilities just by being interesting and unique – unafraid.

After graduation he headed to art school and I opted for a more inclusive liberal arts environment – we both faced our own challenges and heartbreaks and every now and then I’d hear he was doing this or that – traveling, studying, working, etc.

We both happened to be home on break a few years ago and met at a bookstore to catch up. The truth is I don’t know if we had ever had a real one-on-one conversation before that, so I don’t know what either of us could have said in a couple of minutes in a horse-barn to summarize nearly a decade.

As we stood there listening to our mothers discuss our siblings’ current state of affairs, neither of us said anything. Although I’m quiet, I can usually put a few words together  – but between my lack of current affairs, and the whiplash of wondering if either of us were recognizable versions of our younger selves, I only muttered something like “that’s nice of you” after he admitted to conceding to his mother’s interest in spending the afternoon at the horse exhibit, before we both said goodbye and walked in opposite directions.

The rest of the day I drifted in and out of conversations and couldn’t quite focus on other exhibits. I kept asking myself where the time had gone – what I had done with my life, but more importantly – who I was, who I’d become. The 18-year-old in my past was focused, hopeful, undeterred, optimistic. Where did that person go? Was she still inside, buried under years of soul-sucking work and relationships?

The whiplash wore off the next morning and I realized that while I’d love to re-connect with him some day, it was more a re-connection with myself that I longed for.

Don’t you love those moments? Why does insight come only after it slaps you in the face?!