He said, “I’m going to be at my aunt’s house. What are you doing?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I was wondering if you got in ok.” There was a strange silence.
He said, “Well, I’ve got some stuff to do; I’ll call you later.”
I put down the phone and the glass broke. There was you see, a glass in which I’d held our friendship frozen in time. For me nothing had changed, no time had passed, and no uncomfortable silence existed. And with one statement you changed all that. Admitting to myself females make far more of words than men ever could, I moved on with my day, not waiting to hear from you but hoping that all was well with you.
“He said, “So come get me whenever you’re ready.
“I’m in White marsh,” I said.
“He said, “So in two hours; like six?”
“Yeah, what’s the address?”
I threw my Blackberry into my bag and the silence was gone. There is you see, a part of me that has been broken since you’ve gone away. For me friendships are disappointing, no one is held close to my heart, love is elusive, and communication is best from a distance. I spent the next two hours trying desperately not to look as I had in 1990, taking off black clothing, pulling up my hair.
He said, “Where are you? I wasn’t sure that was your car.”
He said, “I’m here.”
I threw the car into park and the distance was gone. There is, you must know a genuine need to know that one of us is well in this world and for me that must be you. Two sides of the same coin we are, always facing away from one another, but always having each other’s back. I was so happy to see you; embracing you seemed to fix all that was wrong in my world and letting go seemed impossible. Although betrayed by the weather and the holiday, seeing you became at some point more important than breathing. Whether dancing away the time at that place we don’t speak of or enjoying spirits, courtesy of my sister, I thoroughly enjoyed you allowing me to be me again.
He said, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Craig.” we all made a toast in my sister’s home and the world was good again. This was you see, the moment in which I accepted life had changed but we’re going to be fine. The stuff of life challenged both of us but the stubborn snobs we are, held us and ensured we’d arrive at exactly this time and place, seated across from one another enjoying good company and good conversation.
He said, “I’ll call you or Facebook you when I get home.” And just like that, you were gone from my life again, on your train, on your plane, on your life’s journey. Perhaps I will not store our friendship in a glass case this time, opting instead to let it go, wherever it goes. For at this time you must realize, yours is a friendship that matters to deeply me and I know we shall meet again.
- Terence Blacker: The limits of modern friendship (independent.co.uk)