Thanksgiving Blues

Last year I was driving back from Atlanta, having dropped off my best friend at the hospital for more tests and procedures. Normally I stayed there with her, but my children needed me home. With all her treatments and tests, I'd hardly seen them. Her old college friends were in Atlanta and she'd spend the holidays with them. I was coming home to my kids.... and to you.

Traffic was hell and I ran so late. There would be no Thanksgiving dinner. I wouldn't even get home until after everyone's bed time. I wouldn't get to pick up my son's from the sitter. Only my daughter would be home waiting for me.

I called you in tears. You told me to stop by your Mom's on the way home. You said that there was plenty of food. I'd never met your mother or anyone outside of your children. You're mom's was only a half hour round trip out of the way and an hour and half before I'd get home.

I told you I'd come because I was so tired and hungry that I didn't think I'd make it home if I didn't stop for a break to eat.

I really came because I needed you. I needed to feel you're presence. You never touched me, yet you always felt like home. I needed you to tell me everything was going to be all right. I needed to see your smile and that look in your eyes that you got when you were worried about me. I needed to smile back and tell you that I'd be ok. That I was ok. Somehow always telling you that I was ok made me feel stronger.

I was so tapped out I didn't want to meet anyone new. I was wearing leggings and a sweatshirt so that I'd be comfortable for the long car ride. My hair was pulled back with sunglasses and the bags under my eyes showed the hours I'd logged driving. I'd left my house at 2am, and here we were at 9pm.

Yet, the minute I pulled up and saw you, everything was OK. You walked me in and sat me down at a table away from everyone. Then, your mother dove in. She was all the things a mother should be. Comforting, understanding, supportive. She made me a plate and then made a plate for me to take home to my daughter.

Do you remember that night? Your daughter was in the kitchen talking to other family across the bar. I heard her clearly say, "No, they're just BFFs" as you walked into the kitchen to get me something to drink. "Right Dad? You and her are just BFFs?" You replied something I couldn't hear and I heard her say, "Yeah, just BFFs".

Your mom told me later that she knew that night that you and I would end up together. She said that I was good for you. That she could see how much I loved you. She told me you could be difficult but that you were a good man.

Here we are, a year later. I don't know if you love me or if you ever did. You're no longer my best friend and there are no more trips to Atlanta because the cancer finally won and my other best friend is gone. I told myself my health issues were too intense to cook Thanksgiving today but the truth is that this Thanksgiving is too painful. This Thanksgiving I look around my life and realize my two best friends are gone. I've spent most of my life without best friends. I've been ok with that. Yet, I had two for a short time and felt less alone than I'd ever felt in my life. Somehow that makes today feel more alone than ever.

This Thanksgiving I'm sitting here at a computer, typing these words as tears stream down my face. I ache to go back in time just for a brief moment, to a time when my two best friends were in my life. To that time when I thought I was strong, loved, and able to conquer anything life threw at me.

I miss you.

I miss her.

This Thanksgiving sucks.

Best Friends

Last night I got a call from a ghost. A ghost I never thought to hear from again. A ghost that, for so very long, I had called my very best friend.

We spoke for hours. It was as if we had never spent time apart. Our friendship had started at a young age, when neither of us were certain who we were. A point in time where we were responsible for starting to make decisions that would direct us in our adult lives. We were thick as thieves and nothing, nor anyone, could separate us.

Or so I thought.

After what seemed like a lifetime of friendship, we crossed the bridge into a romantic relationship. I had delayed his interest in the fear that we would somehow lose our friendship. I valued our friendship more than anything else and I knew that I would be unable to live without it.

Our relationship progressed and we spoke of a future together. I was ready to uproot my life and move to where he resided, children in tow. I had always loved him. He had always loved me. We were best friends. What possible reason could there be not to be together?

I am not sure how it happened with him. I have many questions that were never answered. Did he just happen to meet her and know from that moment that she was "the one"? Had he been dating others the entire time he was professing his love to me? He called me almost every night and spoke to me until we fell asleep to each other's voices...... had he called me after he returned from his adventures with others? How long after he met her did he continue to tell me he loved me and speak of our future? How was it, if he were planning a future with me, that he could turn so abruptly away from me to pursue a future with someone else? Had he never meant the things that he told me? He would call me his "Jenny". I had not seen the movie he referred to. I remember the night I finally watched it and how I called him to tell him that it was the most beautiful name he could call me. Forrest loved Jenny completely and without holding back.

Now all I think of is that Jenny died.

For over a decade I have not spoke to my best friend. I forgave him long ago and even became happy for his marriage and children. He was happy, and that is all I ever wanted for him. He contacted me out of the blue years ago to offer an apology which surprised me. I welcomed it wholeheartedly and let him know that I had already forgiven him. Yet, I could not understand why we could not have our friendship. He chose to marry her and live his life with her over me. He was in a solid relationship with me, planning our future, and once he met her he forgot that I existed. Why would she prohibit our friendship? What could she possibly fear? He loved her in a way he had never loved me, why must he and I lose such an old friendship? He did not answer, and we did not speak again.

Until yesterday.

When I saw his message I did a doubletake. I blinked my eyes, leaned forward, and looked again. Was that really his name beside the message? Could it be someone else with the same name? Why was he contacting me?

I quickly realized that he was still seeking absolution. He was still carrying guilt over how he treated me and the pain he had caused me. Although I had let go of that pain and anger, he still held on to the impact of it. He still saw the scars he inflicted upon me that I still carry. He feels the pain of the scars even though I no longer notice they are there (or so I tell myself though my deep rooted trust issues speak against that notion).

Yet, I couldn't understand why he sought absolution from me. I had given him that which he sought years ago when I told him I had forgiven him. The answer came when I once again questioned why we could not have our friendship as it posed no threat to his marriage. He was the reason. Through choices and decisions he made regarding how he portrayed our history, he has burned that bridge. In an attempt to protect his wife that he loved more, he instead betrayed her trust. She had banished me from his life, and hers. Our friendship is never to be again.

Knowing it is one thing. Seeing the words as I type them is another. There is a weight that comes with the knowledge that something is forever. I had always thought that eventually she would get over whatever insecurities that she had and we would be great friends. I knew that he and I always befriended the same types of people and that if he married, she would be someone I would like and get along with. Yet, to discover that there was so much more to the story and that the bridge to our friendship had been burned.... I am saddened.

There is no one else left that I am that close to or that knows me that well. They have all left this world. No one else is left that connects me to my childhood or the innocent and naive girl that I once was. No one else remembers that child that looked out to the world smiling and whose insatiable appetite to understand everything led her into adventures no one else could imagine.

The stories he and I could tell of nighttime adventures and mishaps.... I smile just thinking of them.

We had such great fun. We were thick as thieves and nothing, nor anyone, could ever separate us.

Or so I thought.