My favorite Pink Floyd album is Wish You Were Here. It�s actually one of my favorite albums of all time, my only criticism being that it�s always over so soon.

The first exposure I had to the band (that I recall, though I wouldn't be surprised if I had originally heard them as a child) was when I was 16 or 17 and spending a lot of time with my first long-term boyfriend. Since our small boring town offered no entertainment for anyone of any age, Ciamak and I would often hop in the back of his dad�s red Toyota Tercel and he would drive out to anywhere that had a beach: Oceanside, Laguna Niguel or even Lake Havasu. Once we got to the freeway he would light up a joint which (much to my parent's dismay) he would share with us. Afterwards he would blast some music - Pink Floyd, Queen, Moody Blues, Cat Stevens or whatever and just cruise.

I remember being slumped lazily on those annoying leather seats (you stick to them if you sweat, ew), holding Ciamak's hand, engrossed in the music, both of us with silly grins and smiling eyes. Those drives were some of the happiest moments I�ve ever felt in my entire life.

My favorite was always when he'd put on Wish You Were Here. I remember sometimes when the title track came on I would sneak glances at Ciamak and just cherish the moment, thankful to be blessed with such an amazing experience. Sometimes I thought I was the luckiest girl in the world. Other times I would curse the fact that this album that I had such an affinity for would always in my future bear a connection to this person whom I knew eventually I would lose touch with. I thought for sure that every time I heard "Wish You Were Here" it would be linked with a sense of sadness and loss instead of the elation I felt at that time. Once in a while thinking about it would even momentarily bring tears to my eyes, as if I was empathizing with my future pain or trying to ground myself at that moment. Even at that age before I had experienced love or deeply romantic relationships, I had already been instilled with the core belief that all connections are temporary.

"There is nothing in the whole world that is permanent. Everything flows onwards..."

Looking back, I guess I knew myself pretty well in that sense (or maybe those thoughts created the situation) because I can rarely listen to this album without having at least one fleeting thought of Ciamak - though now it's a fond reminiscent "I remember those days". But the majority of the time, when I hear "Wish You Were Here" I always end up longing for someone that I hadn't ever predicted... me.

Without fail, every time I hear this album, I think back to whom I was years ago, not whom I was with. It's sometimes difficult for me to think about everything I've experienced over the years that evolved me from that innocent little girl (yes, unlike some people, at that age I was still extremely innocent) to the person I am today. I miss the pieces of myself that I've lost due to circumstances or stored away so well that they can't find their way out. I miss the pieces that were wasted on people who in retrospect I think did more harm than good in my life. Friends... if you can call them friends, people I chose to spend time with... my temporary fixes for loneliness and boredom... how did I get so lost in those people? Here I am years later, rediscovering that a large part of my focus has always been something to make me feel better RIGHT NOW.

Though it may not be immediately apparent (ha!), I have learned some things. I continue to learn constantly and there's no sense in regret. All I can do at this point is try, really, really try to not simply file this idea away under the piles of feelings from the past that I chose not to deal with at the time. Suffering is inevitable. Yet I do have the option to make the conscious decision to not repeat this, again, years from now, by facing problems as they arise instead of finding the nearest distraction. (Whom was that just a couple days ago screaming for more distractions? Oh wait...nevermind.)

But with all this being said, as I find these thoughts have no where else to go, I'm staring at the screen and thinking, "These are just words". It pours out of my brain, it all makes sense, but how do you make yourself believe yourself? That is, and almost always has been, the essence of my problems.

Sometimes I'm reminded of Hedwig when I hear "We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, Year after year,". As if my other half is inside somewhere - I visualize it being part of me but somehow disconnected with the surface me. "Running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here".

Dear Asha,

I miss you.

Love, Asha

Current Status: still neutral

When I was on the swim team in high school the coach used to rave to me about how much potential I had that wasn't tapped into. She would give me lectures about passion and motivation and ask, "what makes you angry!?" to which I would reply "um, nothing?". It must have been frustrating for her. I feel her pain.