my best friend
But actually I had a best friend already — a girl I’ve known since middle school. This is my homegirl, my dawg.
Love was like her, well, possibly even partially replacing her because I didn’t/don’t talk to her often. When my depression gets moderate to severe, I retreat, which means I stop talking to her (and others). She knows this. But when her life gets really complicated, I also retreat…although now that I am thinking about it, her life complexities coincide with some of my periods of depression (which sounds like she makes me depressed LOL).
She and I have always talked about how our lives have mirrored one another’s. We have had many of the same experiences though they didn’t happen at the same time. Therefore, she understands me 100%. However, as we have gotten older, her life has gotten complex in ways that were foreign to me and my understanding of her has decreased.
Over the years, I have had a few guy friends with whom I have been able to share the intimate details of my life. What I mean is that there have been those special dudes who didn’t mind when I spoke about having sex with other men, even though I was having sex with them, too. I have rarely been exclusive with any one man. And even if I was, it was for a limited time period.
I have never promised exclusivity to any man, nor have any men specifically requested it of me. However, there are the ones who you know you can say anything to like, “Yeah, the other night when I was fucking this one dude…,” and then there are the ones with whom things are better left unspoken.
Anyway, obviously, since Love was married, one could assume that exclusivity between us would be nonexistent (nonexistent doesn’t mean that it is not desired, however; and I’m talking about what the married man wants, not me. This is another topic I need to write about.). He met me as a single woman who he knew was involved with one or more persons. So, I would share with him the different experiences that I had had, or was having, with men. And Love, like my Sagittarian fling, seemed to be curious and even excited when I would relive my stories. I loved this about Him.
Love already knew about old lover, though he didn’t officially put a name to him until over the summer. But over the past year and a half, I told Love more and more about other men. This is the key to getting to know me and unlocking any mystery about who I am. He listened carefully and offered His perspective on different issues. None of it decreased His affection for me. Like any other friend, or best friend rather, He only wanted what was best for me. In fact, as more time passed, our feelings for one another increased.
As lovers who were friends, Love became my Best Friend while simultaneously becoming my Love — the most important man in my life, the best lover I have had, and the only man I have loved in this way. My Everything. We laughed it up. We had wild conversations. We had deep conversations. We went places. We ate together. We got up early in the morning. We hung out late at night. We saw each other’s pain and checked on each other. We wanted happiness for one another. We became happiness to each other.
My Friend. My Best Friend. My Lover. I’m glad that I got to finally meet my Soulmate. I had been looking right into His eyes for several years. Unfortunately, I only came to recognize Him recently. And then He was pulled away.
These are the links within this story. Read them at your leisure for greater understanding, curiosity, or confusion.
I write hoping that spilling these memories will ease my pain and allow me to work through this grief.medium.com
The evening of October 25th, when I found out that Bo had died, I kept repeating the phrase My Friend, My Friend. I was…medium.com