The Story of a Friend

But first: Borrowed from Beauty of Gray

Apparently I am very talkative. Hmmm, have to quiet down a bit. I am laid back. Hubster says I am a great kisser. I am down to earth. I wouldn't say I'm addictive, but then some of you dear and loyal readers have been with me for a while now. I do love being in my current long relationship and I intend to stay in it for another 50 some years. Rare to find, well, I'm home most nights. Good when found. Ok, if you say so. I can't agree with the dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things, as most of my life is filled with nonsensical and unnecessary. And I absolutely do judge people through observation. I love to watch people and make a judgement on their character. But I do watch them first, no snap judgements. Though I have met the occasional person that set off bells and whistles from the second their aura crossed mine.

So, R.E.H. asked me about the friend I mentioned in yesterdays meme. My friend, for as long as I knew him wanted to be a fly boy. He had planned to go into aeronautics when he was done with high school. So, when my mom called me my freshman year of college and told me he had killed himself my world and everything I knew seemed to fall apart. Of all the people in my life he was the one that knew what he was going to do. He had his future planned. He knew his path. So what could possibly make him do that? I called my best friend and I asked her. She was as close to him as I was. But I moved out of state so I hadn't talked to him since I started school.

She said that his parents refused to let him go to Embrey Riddle. He had been accepted and was even offered a scholarship there. But they said that no son of theirs was going to be just a stupid pilot. Their son was going to be a doctor or a lawyer. And then she added that at the same time that his parents upended his career plans his girlfriend, the love of his life, came home from college pregnant. The child wasn't his.

And so he took the only way out he knew to escape the pain, and the heartbreak.

I remember him for his smile, for his laughter, and for how deeply he enjoyed life. How much he liked to make people laugh. How much he enjoyed egging on old Enez at work. How he would follow her around the store and do imitations of her. And how she would turn around and sock him in the arm. And tell him to behave. And he would just laugh, and then he would hug her.

And how he scared the crap out of Girl S and me in the cemetery. How he had us so spooked we were crying. And I almost drove over a dozen tombstones trying to get out.

I'll never forget the day he hot glued every thing in the break room down. Everything. And the look on the faces of the ladies that worked with us. And how, out of all of us kids, they knew it was him. And how when they charged out to the cash register area he just doubled over laughing. And he made all the customers in line laugh. It was infectious.

He was the strongest most confidant person I knew growing up. I looked up to him. I admired him. For how easy life seemed. How easy he laughed, how easy everything came to him. He was so smart, so handsome, and so loved by everyone.

But one sad afternoon I learned that his life wasn't that easy, or that perfect, or that confidant. He was just as insecure and afraid as I was. He was just as human.

In my heart he has always remained larger than life. I look at his picture and I smile. And I remember that he was a part of the best memories I have of my teenage years. And after all these years I still miss him dearly.