I Hope Next Time You See Me, You Say Hello

Recent events have made me remember my former best friend.

The man I called when my car was towed, when my shower broke, when my heart was broken. The man I called when we lived far and near to each other. The man who poured me Gatorade when I was hungover. The man who held me when I was alone and something horrible had happened in my family.

The man that knew all of my secrets.

The man who I lived with for a little while – the man with magical DVR fast forwarding skills, he could always land on the right spot.

The man who called out “Do the ‘flying v'” at a hockey game.  The man who lived in my dining room when he was looking for work and new to the city.  The man who is a connoisseur of apple crisps.  The man I could show outfits to and he wouldn’t mock me.

It’s been 4 or more years since we have spoken. 

I get it – he is married now, and I only wanted him to be happy.  All the drinks together, all the moments, the sitting on the back porches talking – what I wished for him, more than for myself, was to find the right person and be madly insanely happy over them.

I miss him.

There is a hole in my heart that won’t be filled.  All of the dates and new male friends throughout these years.  There is only one who understands me fully and never judged me.

I think I loved him too much and in the wrong way. Men cannot be fulfilled with platonic love forever.

I’d give everything, pay an exorbitant amount of money – for drinks with him.  To sit alone with him in a bar at 3:00 pm, laughing and remembering the times we had.

We grow up. We move on. People change. I’ve changed. 

I am sure he has. He’s married.  He will one day be a dad.  I’m still single and on the dating scene. I’ve moved cities a couple of times.  I’ve changed my life.

I miss him.

I think what we have, what we had, is the best memories anyone could ever ask for.

I will always wish him love and happiness. I hope he can one day hope the best for me.

We passed in the street once, and did not acknowledge one another. I wish for different. 

The next time, if this world is as small as it can seem, if we pass each other in the street – we can grasp in a deep hug of remembering and respect and love and wishes of beautiful lives for the other.

I think that’s the best I can hope for.

I think that is growing up.