My Friend

I had a friend.

A friend who was so loyal, that it didn’t matter who I hung out with or how many times I ignored him. He didn’t care. He was just happy to be my faithful friend, and to be there for me when I needed him.

A friend who was so truthful, that no amount of misbehavior on his part was ever hidden from me. He readily confessed his wrongs. But he was equally as quick to point out my own. Only a true friend can do that.

A friend who was so patient, that he waited through times when I hurt him or frustrated him or forgot about him. He just waited. He just hoped. He just believed in me. He believed that I cared about him and would honor my love for him. The truth is, he loved me far more than I ever loved him. Sometimes the truth hurts.

Maybe it was those deep brown eyes he had. Maybe that was what drew me back to him over and over again. I knew there was consolation in his tender, steady eyes. His soul was like that, too. Tender and steady. Like the rhythm of the waves on the sea shore. He loved the ocean. I loved the ocean. But if he was the pulse of the tide, then I was the gull. I wandered and left him. I never appreciated him, until it was almost too late.

The last summer I had with him was so precious. I didn’t know it was the end. I thought it was only the beginning of a wonderful relationship. How much he had changed! How much he had improved! My silent rejoicings were so hollow. Maybe I was the one that changed. Maybe I was just then chipping away the excess clutter from the beautiful sculpture of his heart. Or maybe it had been beautiful all along. My eyes were forgetting the rough edges and seeing the art for the first time.

It’s strange that autumn must always follow summer. Why is there always such stability and tradition in nature? Why not spice it up a bit, and go directly to spring? Must there always be a time of rain and mud and fading leaves?

And why is winter so cold? It forces one to hide inside and be stuck alone in silent ponderings. For hours the snow falls outside the window and blankets the night with white. They are long hours, filled with the ticking clock and the meanderings of my brain.

I haven’t found the spring yet. I’m still waiting. I hope this darkness doesn’t last forever, but I feel that it will.

It is hard without him.

I want to run to him, and bury my face against his neck. I want to feel the pulse of life echoing in my ear. I want to feel the warmth of his breath wafting against my cheek. But he is not there anymore, and I cannot go to him.

It is tearing me apart. When will resolution come? When will I sense a peace of closure? When will I be able to forget and move on?

Never.

Not true.

There is only one thing I can hold onto in this difficult stage of life: a better friend. A friend that is full of stronger loyalty, truth, patience, beauty, stability, and tenderness. He is a friend who promised to never leave me. He is a friend who promised to be there for when life seemed too tough. A friend who will one day take me away from my struggles and reunite me with the friend I miss so much now.

He will be my comfort in this time, and always.

He will be my Friend.