I ran into you-know-who the other day. We've been texting. I hope that's all right. We used to be such good friends, him and me. You know, he is the first person to ever tell me the truth about my relationships with boys - that I was desperately searching for love in all the wrong places. He never said one bad word about my choices when it came to boys (probably because most of them knew him), but he tried to steer me in the right directions. The only time that I listened was after he wasn't my friend anymore. His relationships were all amuck, trying to figure out boys or girls, older or younger, in the closet or out. I don't think I ever gave him sound advice, but I'm sure I tried.
He was always my back up. I like to think I was always his, but I don't think he's the type to have a back up. We once almost - but we didn't. I had these dreams after that, scary ones, about how wrong it would've been. Can you imagine? I certainly can't imagine anymore. There were days when I saw us in a little yellow farmhouse with a boatload of children (they would've been so pretty!). Now I really only see you and me. He's off in the background like a wedding guest no one knows. The guy who nods knowingly during the speeches and has a dance with the bride, but doesn't even know the grooms last name. Like at that wedding we went to last spring, you know, the piano player? I felt so bad for him. At least neither of him or I is in love with one another. My Best Friend's Wedding is NOT my favorite movie.
Back in the beginning he was my backbone. Once I got one of my own I guess I resented him. He figured out what he wanted to do, as I just could not. He found love, as I could not. He got a life. I resented that. Every time I make a decision on my own, I think about how I used to need him to tell me which was the right one. I probably would have kept doing that my whole life if he hadn't forgotten me that one time. You don't know that story. I'll have to tell you another time, but at the time it seemed he was the most selfish person. Now I see that I relied a bit too heavily on him. I hope I'm a more independent person, even though I have you.
Running into him was odd. It was like seeing your long lost brother who you no longer share a life with. It's so stilted talking with him over the phone. There is this massive history there, something we'll probably never lose. But we don't have any recent memories to share with each other. It'll probably always be there, this comfort of a familiar face and voice. But it'll never be the same as it was. Nothing wrong with that. After all, I have you J.