We're like pen pals, but without the pals.

Do you ever wonder why you keep corresponding with some people?

I mean, you were friends once, when they lived near you, and you honestly enjoyed the pleasure of their company.

But now, seperated by an ocean of time and distance, you continue to write chatty letters back and forth, knowing all the while that without the tete-a-tete interaction your words are meaningless because you have zero in common.

I have noticed that I continue to correspond now only with those with whom I have at least a little in common (a shared interest, a similar goal, etc). Because over the years the other correspondences have all died away.

It's like a sort of darwinistic rule of long distance relationships. "Only those relationships founded in some rational shared interest or common characteristic will survive to maturity via a long distance correspondence."

A very good friend contacted me recently. She and I now have things in common that we didn't when we knew one another before. It's interesting, but I think our correspondence died as a result of the darwinistic limitations, but now, with the new commonalities, we'll probably keep in touch for a while.

Funny how that works, don't you think?