Playing it Straight pt. 2
For all my fans out there, I'm listening. I'd thought I'd end on a little bit of a cliffhanger. I guess I'm not cool enough.
Continue:
I try to muster up the balls to say the first word. Ok, good. I did it.
"Hi" I said. I hug his mom and a shake his hand. I notice his firm grip and the fact that my mom is screaming with joy that they are here. I didn't know what to expect. I was still drowning with thoughts of how much I've changed and the fact that I hadn't thought of him in years. We go inside. They day progresses as our talks of childhood gets tired and lonely.
I told him much about my new life since we've parted. About high school, girlfriends, places we've gone. About my sister's kung fu school, how I've graduated, my love, my interests. He does the same.
We've changed alot, but haven't. He brings me back to my childhood again and again. I think of me, a pasty pale kid, just wondering around this vast world of Spanish culture that is the development. He taught me a lot for not being my teacher. He showed me a lot for not being a photographer.
After changing a few locations to talk it's getting dark now. Conversations have left us little to say. I'm tired from emotions and from the day. Funny memories are now dead tired along with me.
They need to drive an hour back and decide that now is as good a time as any to head home.
I hug them both as the head to the car, embracing this older woman who was so nice to me. I also embrace this man who was so close when we were young. Before the bullshit of life, the complexity of love, and the hardship of money. Yeah, we were friends: The most pure form of it.
Continue:
I try to muster up the balls to say the first word. Ok, good. I did it.
"Hi" I said. I hug his mom and a shake his hand. I notice his firm grip and the fact that my mom is screaming with joy that they are here. I didn't know what to expect. I was still drowning with thoughts of how much I've changed and the fact that I hadn't thought of him in years. We go inside. They day progresses as our talks of childhood gets tired and lonely.
I told him much about my new life since we've parted. About high school, girlfriends, places we've gone. About my sister's kung fu school, how I've graduated, my love, my interests. He does the same.
We've changed alot, but haven't. He brings me back to my childhood again and again. I think of me, a pasty pale kid, just wondering around this vast world of Spanish culture that is the development. He taught me a lot for not being my teacher. He showed me a lot for not being a photographer.
After changing a few locations to talk it's getting dark now. Conversations have left us little to say. I'm tired from emotions and from the day. Funny memories are now dead tired along with me.
They need to drive an hour back and decide that now is as good a time as any to head home.
I hug them both as the head to the car, embracing this older woman who was so nice to me. I also embrace this man who was so close when we were young. Before the bullshit of life, the complexity of love, and the hardship of money. Yeah, we were friends: The most pure form of it.
posted by Ryan at 2/16/2005 08:34:00 AM
4 Comments:
So, his he still your friend? They say there are three types of friends:
Friends for a Reason
Friends for a Season
Friends for a Lifetime
ditto just-rambling...
and i'm glad you expanded the story...your cliff hanger just left us wanting more...
I had a friend like that.Another culture, another time. Unfortunately he isn't still alive to talk to.
Your story brought back a flood of memories of the time we had together.
I never really thought about what he had taught me.. until now.
Thanks, Ryan.
I was driving to work one morning and he popped into my head. I said. I need to write about him. he's a good person. That's all I did. It ended up teaching me about something deep.
Thanks for your comments.
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