Thinking again

I had leftover chinese food last night with a glass of wine and a few stale cigarettes. Cruel Intentions was on and I sort of half-watched. It’s one of those movies that I really can’t stand, but that I leave on for the soundtrack. There isn’t a single song on it that I don’t love. It reminded me of BFF Matt who always used to talk about how much he loved the movie, so I called him.

“What’s not to love about it? Beautiful people, money, sex, scandal…” he said when I told him what I was watching.

“The complete absence of a believable plot. Unrealistic dialogue. Shallow characterization. And most notably obnoxious…Reese Witherspoon. Ugh.”

“Whatever. So... what’s going on?” he asked. “I know you didn’t just call to talk about the movie.”

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” I said, my voice already starting to get a bit weepy.

“I know,” he said. “Me too…”

He told me about his day. The discipline problems he’d been having with one of his students. His high for the day had been the hour and fifteen minutes of good behavior that he managed to coax out of this little boy. “I don’t know if they’re learning anything,” he said, “but at least I got that…”

He sounded tired. His voice is different now—deflated, a little sad. It’s not the Matt I used to talk to. We’ll still laugh and joke around, but there is something missing and it hurts me to hear it. Of course, I can only imagine what he feels when he hears me. It was the third phone call in a row where I’d broken down into tears.

I said good-bye to Matt five months ago in what could have been a scene straight out of a movie. He ran with me to catch the last bus out of Gallery Place. It was dark at the bus stop and no one else was around. He hugged me tighter than he ever had. He’d handed me a bag with a gift he’d gotten me and the plant he’d let me adopt. When we stepped away there were tears in our eyes. I remember looking back at him as the bus pulled out, watching him get smaller and smaller, further and further away. He sent me a text from the airport the next morning. I was at work wishing that I’d taken the day off and gone with him. “I miss you already,” it said.

Now I’m getting ready to say good-bye to another friend, and it feels even harder this time. It’s still a few weeks away, but the reality is just starting to hit me. I’m scared, I’m sad, and I have a million questions that I’m afraid to ask. I want to spend every last second that I can with him, but I’m holding back. I know I’m not the only one he’s leaving behind. I know he’s got a life apart from me. But still…it’s hard letting go. And it’s the reason why I needed to hear Matt's voice. He knows what I'm going through and he knows how to calm me down.

Matt cheered me up a bit by talking about my upcoming visit to Vegas. It’s a trip that as of yet exists only in fantasy since he doesn’t really have much time and I don’t really have much money. But we keep talking about it anyway.

“It might be selfish of me,” he said. “But I think I’d rather have you visit me here than in the Bay…it’s boring, but I feel like this way we can spend most of the time together and not waste it sightseeing.”

“It’s not selfish,” I told him. “I totally understand…all I really want is you, a bottle of wine, and time…”

So we daydreamed about cuddling up on the couch and talking about nothing.

“Why is it so hard all of the sudden?” I asked him. “I just don’t want to do it anymore sometimes. I love my freedom and my independence, but there are so many days when all I want is to just pack up, go home, and let my parents take care of me.”

“Me too,” he said. “I think it’s because we’re not really happy. We can’t really afford the life we want. We don’t really know what we want to do yet…”

We talked for a while longer, but he had papers to grade so we said good-night. The movie ended, I finished my wine, and dragged myself over to my bed. But I couldn't really sleep. I had too much in my head...