… I was going to say you lose some. I really meant to. Somehow, as the fingers clicked on the keyboard and the memories raced into my head, “love” is all that entered my mind. ‘Lose’ is not a word I frequently think, or write, or say. Lose is foreign to me. Even as friendships change, and relationships end, I’ve never quite felt a loss like I am feeling at this moment. He’s leaving. Him. It has always been very uncertain. Too many emotions, too many unanswered questions, too much insecurity. The beauty was often clouded by the pain and then somehow, the sun shone again on our tumultuous existence and we were back laughing and flying free like two doves soaring above the trees. It feels like I’ve known him my whole life – as if we were kindred spirits – almost twins seperated by our hearts. He has too much pride and ego to ever admit his faults and I’m to open to ever shut up about mine. There was balance to my madness, and support for his helplessness. So helpless. Always needing confirmation or advice or approval. You dont know how many ‘I googled this and that and… do you think it’s cancer? Brain cancer, throat cancer, stomach cancer…’ texts I’ve responded to. There are a lot of ‘no, dears’ going on in my vocabulary. I never get frustrated when he’s down. Oh trust me, when he gets fiesty and demanding, there are plenty of frustrations to go around. But I never get tired of the little innocent. He just fills that space – that piece that’s missing.
When friends leave, it’s never easy. When good friends leave, ugh, kill me now.
I was SO. very. excited. when my best friend Hunter told me he was moving home from the Phillippines after 8 YEARS of being away. He has come to visit throughout the years, but this time it’s forever. This time he’s back. (more about this later)
Not two days later, I got the news about Joel. He got a great job with a great campany, and his life was just going to be great. great.
I’m really happy for him, I am. I want him to succeed, I’m glad he’s coming into his own and staking a claim to something that’s his for a change. He got this on his own merit without any help from anyone else, and boy is he proud! I am too – I’m just also selfishly sad for the void that is to come on that warm July morning when he hits the road and never looks back. Maybe I will visit; maybe he will too. Maybe the company will transfer him back home – oh wouldn’t that just suit my fancy quite nicely?! For now, it’s all just wishful thinking and I suppose I will learn to survive without my very mirror image of all the good and the bad that’s within me. Or I suppose we will just wait and see.