Blast From the Past

i got an e-mail yesterday from a girl i knew in high school. we'd kept in touch over the last 10+ years (once-in-a-blue-moon e-mails and christmas cards) and i was surprised to hear from her. she told me that my best friend from high school was in an accident; she didn't know all the specifics, but he was reported to be in very bad shape and needs to learn to speak again. (i got an e-mail from Nil this morning: apparently its head wound/brain damage induced aphasia).

now, I’m not freaking as much as I thought i would…I just hope he’s ok. I can’t imagine what that’s like; I can imagine how incredibly traumatic it must be for him, though. his mom must be freaking out; back when he and i were friends, they were very close.

it’s gone unsaid, but the deterioration of our friendship really affected me. . .I have some regrets over the direction it took, but only in a nostalgic way. we had been friends and partners on the Forensics (read: Speech & Debate) team all through high school. he was there for my 1st date, my 1st kiss, my last kiss (during my quasi-hetero period) and all the other typical HS drama and angst. we were really inseparable for the entire four years, and even maintained a strong friendship after he went to Boston, for college. looking back, other friends said that he was my 1st boyfriend and in a strange way they were right. we never fooled around or got physical; he was staunchly homophobic, but it might have been self-loathing "if i say i hate queers loud enough, people won't think i'm one" kinda deal. despite his vocalizing and my internalizing, we shared an incredible emotional relationship. when we stopped talking, it really hurt me.

We were SO close for such a long time and then he and his girlfriend (with whom i was also very close) broke up, and I then came out. i remember, he was very uncomfortable about me coming out (maybe because he was the last friend i told); and we had gotten into small verbal arguments in the weeks afterward. the last one ended with him telling me that i wasn't a real man. we didn't speak for quite a few years till i saw him at a mutual friend's Christmas party. since then he had moved to LA, picked up quite a drug problem and came back home to dry out, while i stagnated in retail, whored around Staten Island, Brooklyn and New Jersey, and met Stephen. The last time I saw him was at the Christmas party, like, 3 years ago and it was just…nothing. no drama, no awkwardness, just "hey" (and then he spilled his scotch on me). it was such a non-descript reunion that Stephen didn't even remember who i meant, till i mentioned the scotch incident.

Last I heard he was on Staten Island, and I’m tempted to look him up or visit the hospital or send flowers, but it seems like such an empty gesture.