Returning to a familiar place

Recently I visited a place that could have been home to me. Another life? That's what it feels like. It was like I was in an episode of "The Wonder Years" with Simon and Garfunkel singing...

"Time it was and what a time it was it was,
A time of innocence, a time of confidences.
Long ago it must be, I have a photograph
Preserve your memories, they're all that's left you."

I had a photograph taken with two old friends and it was one of the strangest feelings... Sometimes the transition from bosom buddies to characters in some kind of childhood play is so abrupt that it feels like someone's ripped a giant bandage from your body. But at the same time, the distance grew so gradually that it's like the middle of a well-crafted book (the phases of one's life fading in and out so deftly).

It's late. I know I'm likely incoherent. But I had to write down the feeling -- the feeling of longing for a friendship that never matured, but knowing there's nothing you would do differently to alter the destination you've arrived at. Like I said -- strange.