Forwarded Message

An email arrives from an unexpected source.  Someone I used to work with, someone I remember, but didn’t know very well.

This former colleague has decided to get in touch… from his brief message, I’m not sure what prompted it.  I suppose there may be a clue in the body of the email he’s forwarded to me below his own message…

The forwarded email is from him.  I’m torn between a sudden hunger to hear his voice through the words he’s written, and the feeling that I shouldn’t read the message – It wasn’t sent to me originally, and why on earth would anyone who knows him forward something he sent to them? Or did he tell them to, somewhere in the message?

In his message to this third person, who has forwarded in turn to me, he’s talking about the people who stayed in touch with him after he left his last company, when he came to work here. He talks about the percent of people who stayed in touch, describes them as sweet.  He compares that to the number of people who stayed in touch with him after he left here. Again, the in-touch crowd is described as sweet (it’s a strange choice of words, but it does put a framework around why he once told me I was sweet).

I am reading his words, recognizing his voice, not knowing where he’s going with this train of thought …

… and wondering if he realizes how verboten it was to even speak his name after he left … how it was suddenly a career-limiting move to have any association with him…

…and wondering if that plays into the comparative drop off in people staying in contact with him…

… and realizing that as bad as it got after he left, probably a lot of people reached out to him, hoping he could rescue them away from there…

… and becoming aware that I’m dreaming; that there is no email; that the words I’m trying to read faster before wakefulness steals them away are not his words at all…

… and waking up to a new morning that feels that much stranger for having started this way.


~ by lorakceel on April 25, 2011.

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