It’s easy to get along with people when times are good and occasions are celebratory; it’s more of a challenge to raise someone’s spirits when times are tough. That’s the true test of friendship, isn’t it? The test and the reward. I’m grateful that my true friends are there during the difficult days as much as they are there for the fun ones. I’d like to think that they know and trust the same of me. Last weekend in Boston, we put it all to the test, beneath skies of blue, nights of fall, and the soothing fountain of Braddock Park.
SHADOWS ARE FALLING AND I’M RUNNING OUT OF BREATH
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
IF I LEAVE YOU IT DOESN’T MEAN I LOVE YOU ANY LESS
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
Firmly embedded within the heart of fall, the October weekend unleashed a torrent of sunshine, cool breezes, autumnal beauty, laughter and healing, and it all happened with two of my favorite friends – the very best kind of fall weekend to have. It’s been ages since I’ve last seen Kira in Boston. That’s happened before, when snow or scheduling prevents our seeing each other for months at a time. It always feels a little lonelier when those stretches happen; Kira connects me to a time and a place when things were simpler and more innocent, when our main concerns weren’t aging parents or health issues, but where we would eat lunch during our break at John Hancock, or who we would invite to a work holiday party. We long for such concerns now.
It was June when we last met – before the official start of summer – and while I tend to spend more of my summer days at home by the pool, I was willing to make the trip to Boston if she was able to hang out, but we never got around to it. Then her sister passed away unexpectedly and she was called back to Panama for the services. Suddenly, life threw its seriousness in the way of get-togethers, in the way of summer, and I stepped back in requesting any frivolous weekend gatherings. Knowing when to say nothing is as important as knowing what exactly to say. And Kira has always been on the quiet side, keeping things within and not bothering others with messy emotional mayhem. I can relate to and respect that.
WHEN YOU GET UP IN THE MORNING AND YOU SEE THAT CRAZY SUN
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
THERE’S A TRAIN LEAVING NIGHTLY CALLED, “WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE”
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
To honor our reunion, I looked up some classic Panamanian dishes she might enjoy and chose a sancocho. (I kept texting her that I made a ‘sancecho’ and she thought I lost my mind.) It was all about the culantro (not cilantro!) and it turned out to be the perfect meal for a fall evening. Patches of rain hovered and moved on throughout the afternoon, the windows were open just a bit to let in the sound of the fountain, and the coziness of fall descended amid the flickering of candles. Those quiet moments before her arrival, as the soup heated up and Shirley Horn cooed her world-weary wisdom, were where I found peace in anticipation.
We had dinner then watched a bit of ‘The Witches of Eastwick’ and ‘Hocus Pocus‘ then slumbered until the early morning. Kira had to work, but we had the first part of the day to explore Boston a bit. The day was beautiful – all bright blue skies and sun-drenched flowers not yet felled by frost – and we meandered through the Southwest Corridor Park up to Copley, where the Farmer’s Market was assembling its shady stands. Vegetables and gourds and flowers spilled out of buckets – there were warnings on the bouquets that this was likely the last weekend for dahlias given the likelihood of a hard frost the next week. Baked goods sat in neat little rows, pots of herbs swayed gently in the breeze, and the very best part of fall was upon us.
SOMETIMES WHEN YOU’RE DOING SIMPLE THINGS AROUND THE HOUSE
MAYBE YOU’LL THINK OF ME AND SMILE
YOU KNOW I’M TIED TO YOU LIKE THE BUTTONS ON YOUR BLOUSE
We passed by the bench where I met the first man I ever kissed. Kira already knew the story and I didn’t feel like telling it so we walked on without remarking. The mark of real friendship is being ok to walk together in silence and quiet. Maybe we both needed that this weekend.
Even with its beauty, fall can be emotionally tricky. After the sorrow of her summer, Kira’s smiles were slightly slower in coming, but we managed a few laughs. I gave her a belated birthday gift of some Vera Bradley bags and a photo of her in this yellow dress from our last time together. Too soon, it was time for her to go to work, so I joined her on the journey to the Charles/MGH T-stop. An old stomping ground that has come to have new meaning over the years, it held memories for both of us. We hugged goodbye and she crossed the street to the hospital. I walked on further, up past the street that held such secrets and confusing sadness. Pausing where such a pivotal time of my life happened, I felt the same wonder at being in this space in the middle of the day. People rushed by, a few construction guys seemed to be on their lunch break, and at the bottom of the street was the very apartment where I first got naked with a man. What part of me did I leave there? What did I really think I would find?
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
HOLD ME IN YOUR THOUGHTS, TAKE ME TO YOUR DREAMS
TOUCH ME AS I FALL INTO VIEW
AND WHEN THE WINTER COMES, KEEP THE FIRES LIT
Without fanfare or warning, the day turned gray, as if the vibrant color Kira and I enjoyed earlier had been drained by some instant bit of photoshop sorcery. Shades of black and white stilled the clock. Time paused and rewound. I saw myself back in that fall of 1994, some impossibly-thin and gangly man-child making his way down these streets, backpack slung haphazardly over one shoulder, head down and avoiding the world, simultaneously thrilled and dismayed with having just had his first sexual encounter with an older guy. I wasn’t even out yet, I wasn’t even sure I was gay, and not being able to tell anyone about what just happened left me incredibly – indelibly – isolated and alone. That’s the sad province of so many young gay people. I suppose I never thought about how lonely some of us were.
Suddenly I missed Kira, and then I realized that JoAnn wasn’t arriving until the next day. I had the rest of the day and all of the night to spend alone. It’s been ages since I’ve felt loneliness. At first, it was frightening. There’s such a primal terror in that first brush with feeling lonely, and it had been so long since I’d experienced it that I wasn’t sure what to do. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what I was feeling. When I realized it – when I understood that I was, at that moment, lonely – I felt an unlikely exhilaration. I’m not sure how to fully describe it. It was almost relief that I could still be frightened by this world, that I could still access the pangs and aches of loneliness, that I could still feel that sense of loss, even if the loss isn’t apparent, even if you never had anything to lose in the first place.
AND I WILL BE RIGHT NEXT YOU
ENGINE DRIVERS HEADED NORTH TO PLEASANT STREET
KEEP ME IN YOUR HEART FOR A WHILE
THESE WHEELS KEEP TURNING BUT THEY’RE RUNNING OUT OF STEAM
I walked back to the condo, unsure of what to do with myself, almost paralyzed with the idea of empty hours and empty rooms. As the light waned and the day dimmed, I fired off texts inviting friends to this year’s Children’s Holiday Hour – not until December, but it was all I could do to quell the feeling of panic rising within.
Thankfully, the loneliness did not last. It had found me, like an old friend, and we nodded at each other in acknowledgement and admiration. Yes, we were both still here. Yes, we had both been around. Yes, we both remembered. Honoring what we had been to one another, we reconciled and went on our separate ways.
When loneliness departed this time, I didn’t miss it. This would not be our last meeting, and perhaps next time we will be more at ease. Old friends are like that.
