a FACE, a VOICE or a GHOST?

I had this friend in high school, who liked me for who I was. He didn’t judge me. He didn’t avoid me when I was in a bad mood. He liked my attitude and often felt the same way I did about things. More times than not, actually. There was never anything physical between us. We simply were not in the relationship for anything other than ‘friends’. And we were great ones.

We laughed at people together. We talked shit about people together. We did things typical high school kids do (and that’s all I’m going to say about that). We passed notes between classes. We were never taking the same classes because he was 2 years behind me, but he was better at math than I was, so it worked out in my favor once when I needed my homework finished but didn’t know how to do it (cause I had been ditching that class all week).

During my senior year, there were many things to attend. Your last winter formal, your last homecoming game/dance, your last prom, graduation, etc. Those are things you want to experience with friends who are important in your life.

Winter formal, I did not attend. I’ve never been real interested in getting dressed up, especially in high school where all the girls (and guys) judged you by your attire. Homecoming, I attended the game, but not the dance. Again, not into dances. Prom, didn’t go. The word prom has so many hidden meanings and expectations in it’s 4 tiny little letters, that it can be overwhelming to some. As someone who was not into dressing up or going to dances, I found it hard to grasp my mind around the fact that we had THREE or FOUR “last” dances in high school. I certainly wasn’t dating someone at the time of prom that would make me want to live life that evening the way prom was meant to be lived, so it didn’t matter. To me, it was just another dance. Just another night to get dressed up. Graduation/Grad Night, I attended proudly, with a date. But not just any date. He was one of my bff’s. He was the one person who had stood by all my crap. The one who had listened to my every yelling session, or rant about a stupid teacher or the dumb jokes I’d make up about a relative of his (said person introduced us originally). I figured after all I had put him through, he was the one and only person I wanted to spend my graduation night with. That was 1996.

We lost touch after that evening. No more school to keep us in close contact. The days went by and our lives moved on, without each other. I moved out of state, and started a life I didn’t know I wanted. After four long years, I moved back and accidentally ran into him at the bank I was now going to be frequenting. Cool! I missed my bff. Our lives were so different by now, we never connected the same way. I saw him a handful of times when I would go inside the bank, but one day, I stopped going to that bank. That was 2001.

About a week and half ago, I made a comment to JK that I wanted bbq, and asked if we could go to Rattler’s for dinner. Him being the kind of guy he is, he didn’t object and we went. While sitting at our table, a guy walks up to our table and calls my name. I looked over at him, stared at him like I was looking at someone who’s arms and legs got switched around, and said, “Yes?”. He told me his name and acted like I was supposed to remember him, but I clearly didn’t. Once the “film” in my head had reached back to ‘95 & ‘96, I jumped out of the booth and gave him a hug. He seemed happy to see me, but after a 9 year absence, I wasn’t able to read him. I asked how he was and he told me where he was living. I was a bit saddened to hear he wasn’t nearby anymore, but Hollywood isn’t that far, right? I didn’t have my phone, so he took my number. That was 8 days ago.

He was someone I thought about often. I miss his friendship. I miss his witty and/or sarcastic remarks. I miss the hard time he used to give me for listening to country music. I miss the drawings he used to give me between classes, of hot girls with big boobs wearing short shorts and “shit kickers” and the big diamond ring he heard  mentioned in a song once. I would get drawings of the Kansas City Chiefs because I was a fan. We had a mutual friend that we used to make fun of and we had drawings of Congo. (Don’t bother. You’ll never figure it out.)

I hope he calls. I’m waiting patiently. I want to sit around and drink beer and tell stories and hear about how his life has been. I want to tell him about my experiences and some of the things I’ve seen he would have enjoyed and/or made fun of me for. He has changed his image a bit, so I’m wondering if he’s still working at a bank. I have so many questions, but no way to answer them.

JK keeps telling me he will call, but I’m not so certain. He would have called by now. He probably typed the number into his phone wrong, and has no other way to get in touch with me (other than frequenting Rattler’s as often as I do). We were too close for him to be waiting this long to call me.

Where is he?