Oh, the good times we had freshman-junior year. You were my best gay, and I your favorite fag hag/flame dame/fruit fly. Pretty much all of my good stories from college involved you, Laura, or Chris, or some combination thereof. And yet, there was some substance to our friendship; we both confided in one another certain things we couldn’t tell others. You told me I wasn’t like your high school girl friends, that I was “real” and “genuine.” I felt that you were a friend who would care about me unconditionally, and without judgment.
There was always an undercurrent in the friendship, though, that kept it from really flourishing. You had this need to be part of the “in” crowd (and, yes, there is one, even though we are adults now), and I always got the sense that if you had to choose between them and me, you would choose the former. It turns out I was correct.
Four years ago, after not having seen each other for a long time, you came over, drank a little too much, and told me (crying, of course – you always had a flair for the dramatic) that while you had partied with your “other” friends (read: catty, tanorexic, high-fashion-loving, spends-parents’-money-on-unnecessarily-luxurious-apartments friends) during the preceding months, you had lost a sense of who your “true” friends were, and wanted to get back to us.
That was the last time I saw or heard from you.
Back in the prime of our friendship, when I would watch you screen your phone calls, sometimes rolling your eyes and sending the callers to voicemail, it should have occurred to me that that might be me one day. I guess I believed you when you told me I meant more to you than the “fake bitches” I would later notice you reconnecting with once our friendship was on the decline. I know I’m not the only one, and try not to take it personally. People who were once on our speed dial can very quickly become nonentities in our lives, and this is just a reality of adulthood. That still doesn’t make it fair. But it was your choice to make.
I held out hope for a while, because you had a habit of disappearing and resurfacing either weeks or months later. Finally, years passed by, and I decided that there was no reason for me to wait around being ready for someone to decide I was worthy of his friendship again. It’s difficult to say who drifted away from whom, and when; all I know is that we both drifted pretty far.