It's kind of funny. When times change, your friends change too. I miss the good old times that we used to have, but the few that are still in are so trapped, and so alien to me. When I speak to them, it's like a relief that I don't speak the same way.
Everything is based on the religion. The way they speak, the disappointment of dreams that are not coming true.
They have they're own families now, and still get together and get pissed drunk. One day when I get down where I used to live, I will look them up and have a beer. (I'm not DF'd or anything to my knowledge. you never know though). But they are not the same people now. We can talk of the good old days, but that's about it. They know what I think of the dubulya's. I told them that I will never go back, no matter what. I just don't believe it anymore.
Life goes on. Looking back sometimes causes more grief. There are new friends and new times ahead. It's been about 8 years now for me, and I don't regret leaving the religion one bit. Nor do I regret the change in friends that I needed to make.