I’ll always remember the first time we met. I was having one
of those days where everything was going wrong. Quite frankly, it was one of
those weeks. I had a “friend” out visiting with intentions to move in with me,
and it all slowly deteriorated from there. (Which in hindsight should have been
a sign that living together would be an awful idea, and yet I have a bad habit
of not paying attention to those signs. Anyway…) I went and got a massage from
a good friend who then wanted to introduce me to her favorite Sunday breakfast
spot. And that is where we met. He was dressed in his all black uniform. He had
a killer smile. And from the very first interaction I knew he was going to be a
part of my life. I also knew that I could trust him. I wanted him to be my
friend.
In our initial meeting he found out I was moving to a
different part of town and naturally he would happen to have a moving company.
He helped me move. We eventually became friends. And a few months later we
would have our first kiss after a night out on the town in downtown Portland.
Eventually he would become one of my closest friends. And once I let the walls
come down and let him in…I wanted to be around him all the time. I never told
him that. I never told him that I was drawn to him. That I felt some kind of
way. We were just friends.
I think the thing I regret the most was never telling him
the truth. Never telling him how I felt. Eventually our lives became super
intertwined. We shared friends. We all hung out. His best friend’s girl friend
became my best friend. Everyone thought we were together. We weren’t. We were
just friends.
One night the four of us went out. It was mentioned multiple
times that people thought we were together that night. What was supposed to be
a short night for me turned in to an all-nighter. We were driving to the last
bar and he held my hand the whole way there. Which he had done before when we
were in the car. While we were there he stood behind me with his arms wrapped
around me until I was ready to go. On the way home we drove by a spot where you
can climb to the top of this property and overlook the entire city. So we
stopped. We stood at the top of the property, freezing cold at 2am, talking and
wrapped around each other. We told each other how much we wanted for the other
person. We wanted the other person to be happy, to be loved, to experience
success, to be held when life was tough, and cheered on when they were going
for something big. We wanted to be apart of whatever that would look like. He
kissed me again that night. But we were just friends.
You see…what I never told him was that when things were hard
and my heart was hurting, I just wanted him to hug me. When my grandma died
he’s the only one I wanted to talk to. When I wasn’t sure what to do or what
decisions to make about my life, I wanted to talk through everything with him.
When I wanted to go out and goof off…I wanted him with me. When I wanted to
just hang out and not think too much about life…I wanted him with me. When my people
came to town to visit, it was always super important to me that he met them. My
parents even questioned what was going on between us based on how we interacted.
When people asked us how long we had been together when we were out, I’d roll
my eyes, but secretly be begging him to see what they saw. I needed him and I
didn’t even realize how much I did until he was gone. Because we were just
friends.
He started dating someone that I just couldn’t find myself
to like. Someone that our entire group of friends didn’t like. Someone that
felt like the worst fit for him. Maybe it was easy to feel that way because I
didn’t want her to be. We argued a lot about her. There was no question about
where I stood and voicing my opinion created a wedge between us that completely
destroyed what we had created. We went from being involved in each other’s
lives, knowing what the other person was up to, asking each other for feedback,
and involving each other in our future plans…to not speaking. I was slowly
losing my friend.
The last time I saw him our conversation was forced and
awkward. We both acknowledged that we knew nothing about each other anymore,
and we have since justified that sometimes that’s how things go. He asked me if
I could go somewhere to talk privately, and I declined because I knew the harsh
reality of where the conversation would go. I got up to leave and as he hugged
me I started crying, because I think it was then that the reality of what was
gone hit me. I asked him to not let go until I could gather myself. He squeezed
me tighter. He held me until I told him I was okay. I was okay enough to get to
the car. Then I sat and sobbed with my best friend. We weren’t really friends
anymore.
Our paths missed each other by a few weeks many months
later. And as much as I believed that our meeting was serendipitous, I feel
like I needed to believe missing each other was the same. Our text
communication was even more strained than the last time we saw each other. I
called my friend Kathleen, crying once again, and for the first time I admitted
what I never could admit before. I loved him. And not just that “Hey pal,
you’re important to me. I love you, dude.” But rather my whole heart was in
love with him. When I called our mutual best friend, she simply said…It’s about
time you admit it. I waited. I missed an opportunity. I lost him with out ever
really having him. He still doesn’t know. Or maybe he knows but he’s never
actually heard the words come out of my mouth…because we were just friends.
I always hoped that somehow we’d find our way back together as
serendipitously as I felt we found each other in the first place. And yet, life
doesn’t always work like that. There are days when I wish things were so
different. I wish I could talk to him as openly as we used to. I wish that he
was talking me through some of the heartbreak and struggle that is currently
happening. I wish so much for things to be different. I miss him terribly. He does
know that. I sometimes wish to find myself wrapped in his arms on top of that
overlook, and both of us realizing that we are meant to be something so much
more. And even with all of the wishing, I’m doing my very best to trust where
things are at. That this is it and it is perfect. And the truth is…for me…we
were never just friends.
I will always think of him and wish him well. I hope he
finds everything he’s looking for, that he’s happy, and that life brings him
more adventure than he ever could have dreamed of. And if for some crazy reason
life brings us back together, then okay. And if not, I’m still grateful for the
time that we had as friends.
