What then?

I often do not answer my cellphone when an old friend calls. It is not because I do not crave the correspondence, it is because the gesture seems too small. I can trace and dial numbers in order to hear that same old voice. Just as easily I can play it in my memory and get the same effect. Closeness doesn't grow by shooting signals through the network, the actual physical transportation is what it really takes.
I have a hard time talking to people that used to be staples of my daily routine. They remind of a different time when I didn't know what to be. How to act. What to do. Where to start.
Now I have learned the customs of this grown up world, I know where the path will end. Someday soon I will be stuck again with my feet underneath a desk.
There is no pay for the vagabond, just a free meal here or there. The steady paycheck, hard working life will never seem quite free. Too many tie-ins. Too many neck ties. Too many tirades.
Hopefully I will grow accustomed some days, but I often suppose that I will not. What then?