As I sit down to write this, I’m thinking about a friend of mine whose birthday is today. Well, I still call him friend, though I can’t say what his take on the matter is, because I haven’t heard from him in going on five years.
Though we only got together in person a few times, we corresponded pretty much daily online, long emails back and forth about whatever silly projects we were working on at the time or just shooting the shit about whatever was going on in our lives. It was not unusual for either of us to come up with some new harebrained idea and bounce it off of each other. When an idea struck me, he was quick to say, “Let’s throw it against the wall and see what sticks.” Then he not only jumped in head first with me to help, but did so in a way that I was learning, and able to perform similar tasks, coding for example, on my own.
He came along at a time in my life when I was navigating personal insecurities and was often quick to give me some perspective when I needed it. He took a rather Stoic view on life, so the advice was often… Well, it was interesting if not perfectly applicable to my situation, but buried in there was usually a pearl I found to be helpful. Often times the advice was blunt and straight to the point – many times the swift kick in the ass I needed at the time. For example, you have him to thank ( or blame ) for the fact you’re reading this. One time, despite some success as a free-lance writer, imposter syndrome was setting in and I wasn’t sure I could call myself a writer. His advice was simple:
“Are you waiting around for someone to tell you it’s okay? To bestow the title on you? Fine, I hereby dub thee ‘a writer.’ Now get writing.”
Fact is, were it not for him and another friend, I would likely have never written and published my books. The two of them were deep in their own writing projects when I mentioned this idea I had for a story. Their encouragement launched a story, hell, an entire world, that may otherwise have never made it to paper.
You get the idea.
You know, friendships take on many forms and though we didn’t meet up in person often, I came to think of him not only as a good friend, but the older brother I never had. And I told him as much when he and his family moved to the other side of the country. Unlike it may for others, the move caused no real change, but it felt like something that needed to be said at the time. We continued on for several years just the same, bullshitting back and forth, working on website projects together, or just encouraging each others’ endeavors, the same as we had before. He published his first book, I published mine, and we celebrated each others’ accomplishments.
Then in early-Spring of 2021, something changed and, to this day, I have no idea what it was. But one day an email went unanswered. It wasn’t unusual for him to be away for several days so I thought nothing of it and followed up a week or so later. Still nothing. It struck me as odd, but, although he’d usually mention it in the past, it was possible he was out of the country again. Still more time passed with no word so I reached out to a mutual friend who assured me that he was alright, just somewhere that he not able to communicate as easily. Again, this fit his modus operandi, but as weeks and months passed, I felt like there was something more to the story. Again I contacted our friend who, by now, also had no idea what was going on.
2021 passed and my friend’s birthday came around so I sent him a “happy birthday” message, same as I always did. Only there was no response.
In 2022 I published my second novel and sent him a copy, which was forwarded to a new address. I wished him “happy birthday” again that December, this time not really expecting a reply. I probably did the same again in 2023, I don’t recall.
Throughout the years, I couldn’t help but wonder what I could have done or said to have caused him to sever ties like that. Surely if there was something, he’d have told me. There was nothing in our last conversation to indicate there was anything at all. But if there was something, I wanted to know and to make amends if able. I’d certainly have no idea telling him if there was an issue. I’d never just cut ties like that over, well, anything I could think of.
I’ll admit, it bothered me for a long, long time, mostly because I missed my friend. Then I remembered something he said to me once: If you expect others to do things the way you would, you’ll only end up disappointed. In time, I borrowed a page out of the Stoicism handbook, ironically, and decided that it’s beyond my power to do anything about and to accept the situation as it is.
Does it still bother me? Yeah, a little, but I prefer not to focus on that. Instead, I look back at the conversations we had, the things I learned from him, and how knowing him contributed to me being who I am today. Besides, people come and go from our lives, it’s just the way things are. I hope he’s doing well and I wish him nothing but the best, including gratitude for his friendship.
And who knows, maybe someday, out of the blue, I’ll hear from him again. Maybe somehow he’ll see this and reach out to me. Lord, I can almost hear him now, telling me to “get the sand out of my vagina” or something like that and I can’t help but laugh.
In the meantime, happy birthday my friend, wherever you are.