Like running into a pole

While abroad I was extremely afraid of running into someone I knew from back home. No one specific, just someone. Don’t be confused; I’m no misanthrope. When I get the premonition that I’m going to run into someone, it’s never someone I would ever want to run into. It’s always someone around whom I’m extremely awkward or profusely detest. While in Dublin, I was particularly worried to run into this one fellow I went to high school with. He’s one of the most insincere people I’ve ever met. He’s an actor (literally) who is always acting but that’s another story. The point is, when this feeling rises up in my chest it’s accompanied by dread. Since my return, however, I’ve run into two extremely wonderful people.

The first, I stumbled across while waiting in line at Customs upon reentering the country. She, too, is someone I went to high school with though with whom there was a mutual respect and admiration. I saw her and immediately thought “Naa,” because, seriously, what were the odds? Later, I caught a glimpse of her boots and knew it was her; they were her signature Doc Martin’s that she’d sported all through high school. She had also spent the semester abroad in London and we had never seen each other, yet she happened to be on the same flight home.
It happened again yesterday. I was walking with some friends when I ran into another friend. This was someone I hadn’t seen in about a year. Every time we see each other we’re able to pick up right where we left off, not in a nostalgic way but in a way that incorporates our own personal growth.
I wonder who I’ll run into next?